Making Magick
by Mashadar
Summary: The unlikeliest of crossings. The most improbable of incidents. The most hilarious of universes. A considerably different sort of crossover. Sanity is for the weak anyway.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own either IPs. Please don't sue... or use SQFA on me. I don't have rez.  
_

* * *

_Within this tale, lies a place of not meant to be seen by mortal minds. A place where the deepest, darkest of eldritch creations are born and die in the twisting nethers of insanity. It is a realm where rationality and logic perish in the darkness, existences snuffed out before they can even form. No mere mortal can pass these barriers without forever scarring their immortal soul. Take this warning, foolish soul and cease your advance. But if you wish to continue, know that there is no turning back from this world of broken gods and men. A world where dreams and nightmare twine, their fetich offspring whose thirst for souls can never be quenched. A world of-_

**Making Magick**

* * *

A strong, beautiful, sacred familiar.

That's what she said she'd get. Louise de la Valliere, third scion of the noble Valliere family had promised to astound her peers and silence her critics (of which all of the former were also the latter) in the coming of age ceremony for all mages. No more explosions for her. No more failures for her schoolyard nemesis to taunt her with. The only way left for her now was up and up to glorious dominance over her rivals. She'd show them all.

Which is exactly what she did. At least once the smoke of her latest spellcasting cleared.

Everyone, it was admitted, was equally shocked and astounded at the results of her spell.

Not because she'd gotten a strong, beautiful and sacred familiar like she had said. Because there certainly wasn't one, unless it was invisible, intangible, and generally not willing to bother itself with mere nobility.

Not because of the explosion, because that had been certainly expected.

Not because of the crater, because of the aforementioned and expected explosion. Albeit it was certainly larger than her more common attempts at magical ditch digging.

It wasn't because of the presence of anything in fact.

Rather, it was an absence.

And not the absence of a familiar either, for more than one spiteful student had openly speculated on the possibility of this exact outcome.

The absence of one Louise de la Valliere to be exact.

A diminutive pinkette who had last been seen standing exactly where the crater was centered on. And a pair of smoking shoes just the right size to fit a vertically challenged seventeen year old.

Everyone was in agreement, at least, once they were able to talk about it.

Louise had certainly managed to impress them all.

For the last time, some morbidly joked.

* * *

Louise was feeling distinctly cheated. And frightened, very much so. But like any self respecting noble that she had been brought up to be, she'd focused instead on the cheated sensation, banishing her fears with indignant cries of "What's this? What's _this?_ This is not **my** spell! My spell was supposed to bring me a familiar! A strong and powerful one at that!"

What came out instead was "What's going on? Who are you?"

She was most certainly not quaking in her sho- her socks, a tiny part of her mind interjected, noting the distinct and inexplicable lack of well made leather coverings over her feet.

This wasn't how summoning a familiar was supposed to go. Unless the spirits guiding the ritual had a twisted sense of humour in deciding to send her an entire classroom (the blackboard, desks and chairs were obvious), complete with robed and hooded students and a very pale faced man with black robes that was probably the teacher. But who was most certainly also not _her _teacher.

It was a testament to her confused state of mind that she directed her next words to the probable teacher without much thought. "You're not professor Colbert."

The black robed man seemed to take that as a cue to introduce himself, striking a pose as he spoke up, "Of course not, for I am Vlad, the _wise_ and _handsome _senior instructor of Alderheim University, and most definitely _not _a vampire"

Louise stared.

* * *

There was a panic, for a little while. They were all mages, yes, brought up on tales of glory and terrible power that was the birthright of nobility. But they were also younglings, barely past their childhood years and with the few rare exceptions, unblooded. The end of life was something for commoners and villains in their histories to experience. Not one of their own, no matter how big a failure she was.

But there was also grim understanding. Least of all in the eyes of the teacher who had been supervising them.

The crater was sealed off for investigation, and a search party called forth, clutching to the straws of hope that maybe the obvious was wrong. That maybe the evidence before them was leading them to the wrong conclusions. Maybe she ran away. Maybe the stress had finally been too much and she had escaped in the only way she knew how-

No, not that way.

The _other_ way.

The obvious way was something none of them wanted to contemplate.

So they searched. Teams of teachers on horseback while a volunteer student with her newly bonded wind dragon scanned from the skies until the sun dipped beneath the horizon and the stars dotted the night.

But they never found anything. No noble in disgrace making tracks for some bolthole to disappear to. No trace of the missing Valliere scion.

Only the crater she had left behind, and a still smoking pair of shoes that no one wanted to touch.

* * *

"Send me back!" Louise all but screamed at the pale faced definitely-not-a-vampire Vlad, and heavily bearded mage who everyone insisted was headmaster Bjorn. It had been an absolutely infuriating three minutes getting answers out of Vlad who kept trying to talk over her head, but Louise was cloaked in righteous outrage and to the obvious surprise of the pale teacher, didn't stay silent about her demands. What she had manage to put together wasn't very comforting. She was on the continent of Midgard, in the Alderheim Academy of Magic. There had been an accident too. Something about her summoning spell mixing with theirs, summon 'plot device' or something like that.

But that was just the small details in the light of the greater problem.

Like how she wasn't supposed to be even here. The familiar summoning spell wasn't supposed to work like this! Even she couldn't have messed up her spellwork that badly! No no no, it just couldn't be. She couldn't accept the idea that she'd blasted herself into some strange new land. It had to be these mages fault, somehow.

"I am Louise de la Valliere, and I demand you send me back!"

"Home is important. After all, that is where the beard is." the headmaster said, nodding his head sagely, "but you do not have one. It is better that you stay here until you know where it is."

Louise drew herself up, trying to summon all the outrage she could fit into her tiny frame. How dare he try to detain her! How dare he- wait, what?

"Beard?" She couldn't stop herself from asking incredulously. "I don't have a beard! I just want to go home!"

The supposed headmaster shrugged. "Home is anywhere, but Midgard is what we have. I do not know this Helkaginia you speak of." He paused, stroking his bushy chin hair, "Beard thinks maybe little pink one much too tired and confused."

"I am not confused!" she protested. There had been some magic. It had obviously gone wrong. She was clearly lost in some strange land. She wanted to go home. What was confusing about that? Unspoken was the tiny fear that maybe she couldn't go back. Maybe this was it for her, trapped in this strange land for the rest of her life, cut off from everyone she knew and loved. "Send me home!"

The headmaster shrugged. "Maybe when 'go home' spell is researched. It still isn't working properly and turns students into chickens half the time. But beard thinks maybe you are here for reason." He looked at her with sudden intensity. "Beard thinks that maybe spell worked right. Maybe the plot device is you."

"What?"

"Or maybe not. Plot device spell is tricky sometimes, and gets useless talking swords once in a while. Crowbar once even."

"... you're insane." Louise was a member of high nobility. That meant aside from her not so successful magical schooling, she had years of etiquette training drummed into her. There were rules that governed ones behaviour when dealing with members of the nobility, and even if she were in some strange, never heard before land, there were still rules to follow. All that went out the window as she openly gaped at the man who claimed to be headmaster. "This has got to be a joke."

"It is no joke!" The man proclaimed, waggling his chin. "For the crowbar was once used to save the world, by the strange orange suited man who dispensed righteous butt kicking against great evil! Maybe you will do the same one day, hmm? But if you want to go home, we can do that, as soon as we get the 'go home' spell working properly. But first you can stay here until you get there. Maybe learn our magic too."

"Learn... your magic?" Louise perked up at that offer, latching onto it as the sole lifeline against the rest of the insanity. This was no Tristain Academy, surely the standards of this place were not anywhere up to their mark. But maybe, just maybe, they could find out what was wrong with her? Maybe she could learn proper magic that was useful, magic that didn't blow up in her face? If she could... if she could do that, the she could go home with her head held high. It almost made up for the fact that she had been all but kidnapped to this strange and unfamiliar land.

"Of course," the headmaster affirmed, "Even beard knows that Alderheim is for learning magic," He paused, rummaging around in with his robes before extracting something lumpy and yellow which he held aloft triumphantly.

"And cheese."

* * *

"_-it is to my greatest regret that duty requires I inform you that-"_

Osmond paused in the middle of writing the letter to lean back in his chair, letting out a long sigh as he did so. Writing missives was normally his secretary's job while he dictated the content, but this wasn't the sort of thing he could entrust to her. It was far too important and personal a matter.

Blast and damn, who would have thought he would have to write something like this in his twilight retirement? The worst he would have been expected to write about in these waning years was some student or another just not doing well enough in their studies to remain in the Academy. Not that one of them had died under suspicious circumstances during his auspices. He'd delayed coming to that conclusion as long as he could, but his time had run out. Three days of fruitless searching, even with the help of some old friends in the capital who had arrived on dragon-back the first night.

Yet even with their help, they had failed to turn up a trace of the missing girl or alternative explanation for her disappearance. He was too old for regrets now, but he couldn't help but feel that maybe he should have done something to prevent the outcome. But how could they have foreseen it? Despite the girl's ineptitude, her magical failures had never been anything but harmless. All flash and thunder, but nothing that so much as left a scratch on anyone. For something as benign as familiar summoning, the worst anyone could have expected was simple failure, not an ignomious death.

He would have to make it a matter of official inquiry, hence the letter he dreaded writing to the Valliere family and one slightly less dreaded to the Crown. He had little doubt that before long, the Academy would play host to two separate lines of inquiry, and the subsequent fiasco as royal investigators squared off with the Valliere family's own.

Osmond had seen more years than most, and would likely see many more, but a principal shouldn't have to outlive his students blast it.

He could only hope that somehow, wherever the young Miss Valliere had found herself, she would have a happier time there than she did here.

* * *

Louise was **not **having a happy time.

This could be explained as a consequence of having been whisked away three days ago by means yet unknown; because 'magic gone wrong' was a terribly vague explanation, to a strange land she'd never heard off before, with nary a hope in sight of going home soon.

However, that wasn't it. Well, not _entirely_.

It could be the fact that her accommodations ever since the beginning of her stay here were less richly appointed than her old one back in Tristain Academy. The Alderheim University was clearly not as well to do as her old Alma mater, being smaller and having less luxurious amenities. But she could live with that, as while they were simpler, they were not so bad as to be intolerable.

So that wasn't it.

It could also have been something to do with the fact that she was in a magical academy that seemed to be staffed by teachers who ranged from apparently normal (some of the junior instructors), audaciously suspicious (Vlad, whom she was starting to suspect might just be a little vampiric despite his denials), and outright insane. At one point in her stay here, she had actually heard the beardma- the principal insist 'in every beard, there is a headmaster', promptly before trying to feed his chin hair a block of cheese.

But predictably... that wasn't it either.

Louise had learned very early on in her stay here to simply tune out the more outrageous meanderings and insanities of the assorted instructors of magic, if only to retain what remained of her peace of mind. Her first nightmare of bushy faced vampiric cheese had been more than enough incentive for her to take up the self preservative practices of selective ignorance.

What she couldn't ignore however, was their magic system.

"There's no lightning element!" She insisted exasperatedly to herself, thrusting the book in her hand back onto the desk with a thump. "Everyone knows that lighting is a triple stacked wind element. And what in Brimir's holy name is the arcane element?"

Learn their magic, the headmaster had offered, and she had taken him up on it. She came expecting new methods, new ideas in the field of magic and alchemy that at the very least she could take back with her. But the fundamentals of magic, those would be the same after all. Earth, water, wind, fire, and the lost element of void, the pentagon of magic.

Except everything the book talked about ran on the assumption of an octagon. An octagon of magic that had only the barest connection to the elements. Oh, four of the five were there. But the rest... whoever heard of the steam element? Or something as simple sounding yet perplexing as the shield element? And healing magic that existed independently of the element of water?

The only thing that seemed familiar to her was the passages that talked about stacking and combining the elements. That had lasted only until the second paragraph where it claimed combinations of up to six elements were possible. Hexagonal magic! It was impossible, square mages were so rare as to be counted on one hand in most nations, and no one higher existed. Yet this book made it sound like hexagonal stacking was something anyone could do. To a student of the Brimiric faith and magic, the claims were so ludicrous as to be completely impossible.

But the blasted book didn't even tell her how any of their spells was achieved. It was all well and good to talk about the elements, but what was 'A-S-F' supposed to mean? Was that an aria? Acronyms for something else? Did she need a ritual circle? It didn't say. Just 'A-S-F' for a spell of quickening, and that was it.

She wanted to throw the infuriatingly vague book out the window, or bang her head against the table in frustration. She only refrained from doing either because she had tried both earlier in a fit of temper, with equally unproductive results. The book had been enchanted to teleport back into the castle confines, the very table it had been sitting in fact, the moment it left it. It was proof at least, that no matter what impossible claims this Academy made about their magic, it was nothing to scoff at. And though the table had no such protection against abuse, she now sported a bruise on her forehead which served as a deterrent against future head banging attempts.

She sighed, closing the book with more force than she would have normally.

Maybe she would have better luck later with her study group.

Vlad had selected them for her from the better performing students, claiming that she "would need all the help she could get to learn the basics". Strangely the definitely-not-a-vampire hadn't supplied her with their names, or at least, real ones. She couldn't imagine what sort of loving parents would name their children 'Mister Black', 'Mister Red' and various assorted colours based on the hue of their robes.

Inadvertently, she shuddered. She hoped it was just some temporary quirk, and not a sign of his habit of referring to any and all students. She had enough disparaging nicknames already.

She definitely didn't want to be known as "Miss Pink" on top of that.

* * *

Being a second year student of the Tristain Academy of Magic, Louise was more than aware just what a study group was. That knowledge however, was mostly theoretical. The inevitable intrigues and rivalries between the noble families meant that the choices of study partners were often limited to already established cliques. Combined with her own lackluster results in practical magic, it was a fortunate thing that she was a diligent student in her own right and had a sharp enough mind to do well academically on her own. Still, she had a fairly good idea what a study group would be like. There would be the sharing knowledge as they went over their studies, some advice on how to better understand theories, maybe even gossip if they were comfortable enough with each other's presence. That was what it would be like.

"Iieer?"

This wasn't it.

Louise shot a confounded glare at the black robed mage, unimaginatively named Mr Black, who was one of the quartet she'd been assigned to. The man... well she thought it was a man behind the hood but she couldn't be sure, was currently offering her a somewhat charred sausage on a stick. It was his fourth attempt in as many minutes, which coincided with the times she had loudly expressed her frustration. It could have been in a bun at least and... where in the Founders name did that thought come from? She hastily stamped down on it, noticing with more than a little heat that two of her other study partners, Red and Yellow, were elbowing each other in the ribs.

"I don't want any sausages." She replied as evenly as she was able to, though her left eyebrow was starting to twitch with impatience. Vlad had told her group was comprised of honour students, the best of the current year in magical mastery. Looking at the sort of crestfallen slump to Black's shoulders, she was starting to think Vlad was playing a joke on her. "I just want to understand the magic this university teaches."

"Durber fere?" Yellow asked with a shrug of his shoulders.

Another thing she wanted to understand to a lesser extant was how she was able to even make heads or tails of the utter gibberish they were speaking. It bore no resemblance to any language she was familiar with (and she had at least a passing familiarity of most of them), and nobody else in the Alderheim she'd come across had even spoken in that utter incomprehensibility. In fact, they each seemed to have their own brand of gobbledygook. For all they had spoken, and it wasn't very much since the session had started, she should have incapable of understanding one word of it. Yet somehow, she did.

Sort of.

'Durber fere' from Yellow for example, seemed to carry the flavour of, "what's to understand?"

At least that was just about the only interpretation that seemed to pop up in her head after a few moments of puzzling it out.

Or maybe her mind was just making it all up after finally giving up the fight to making sense of this place. She was starting to put some credence on the latter theory.

But the mage did have a point. The books she had studied so far were straightforward enough when it came to just the magical theory. Visualize the element or combinations thereof that you wanted to use for the spell, focus your willpower into forming the elemental projections and deciding their direction. Some elemental combinations were incompatible while others were complementary. Simple enough.

Except...

"None of this makes sense." She thumped the book labelled 'The Do's and for gods sakes Don'ts of Magick' to emphasize her point. "What does this mean when it says 'don't cross the streams'? A mage shouldn't be able to mix their magic with someone else's spell. It's just not done."

"And what's this about the healing magic? Where I come from, healing is the province of water magic. It commands the elements within the body, knitting wounds and such like. But the book talks about healing as if it was an element of its own. How is that even possible? And what in the name of all that is holy is HP? Hit points? There's no explanation."

It was all nonsense to her when the book started talking about magical rejuvenation. Where was the talk of blood flow, of knowing the internal intricacies of the human body if one were to successfully heal another? One didn't point healing magic at a wounded person without at least knowing where everything was supposed to go. Why, if you didn't know how the body worked and tried anyway, the results would likely be fatal. With the way the book was written, it seemed the author considered that particular knowledge to be practically superfluous!

Red and Yellow traded looks, and then turned back to her.

"Niier." They both said with a shrug as if to say that _was_ how it was done and thinking on it too hard wouldn't go anywhere.

"Nurhuh!" Black interjected with a raised sausage on a stick. Two actually. Somehow, he had acquired another. And at some point, set the both of them on fire. Louise boggled as the student mage, with an air of great importance, put the two burning sausages together.

The results were instantaneous.

"Aaaaaarrhhh!" the black robed student screamed, running around and flailing his burning hands in the air.

In between her sudden horror at the flaming spectacle and the rapid backpedalling to avoid being hit by said fiery digits, a tiny voice in Louise resolved _never _to eat the sausages made in this land, ever.

Two scorched books, some panicked screaming, much flailing, an irate librarian and a bucket of sand later, Louise found herself witnessing a live demonstration of Alderheim magical principles at work as Red procured a four foot long staff during the commotion from Founder only knew where, and pointed it's gnarled end at her still-on-fire study partner.

There was no aria, not even a short one word chant necessary in the simplest of magics. Just a glob of water that suddenly sprang into existence in front of the mage before it shot forward as a short spray of liquid, dousing the flames and shrouding Black in a tiny fog bank. Another off hand gesture, so quick she nearly missed it, and a softly pulsing ball of green light manifested itself above the staff tip before shooting out as a solid beam of light that was most definitely _nothing_ like any healing magic she'd ever seen.

"Nurbur," Yellow gestured with an open palm at Louise's open mouthed shock as the burns on Black's hands all but vanished in that short lived burst of magic. Black emphasized the point by wiggling his now unburnt fingers. Their magic worked. No other explanation needed.

Had she not been so surprised, Louise would have shot up, an objection ready on her lips. As it was, she was still frozen stock still in her surprise when Red thrust the staff at her from across the table with a brief "frum."

There was no mistaking the gesture from the red robed mage.

"What?" Louise managed to squeak out once she had regained control of her tongue. "You want me to try it out? But I barely even know the principles behind your magical system!" Unvoiced was her rather dismal record with actual magical practice so far. Even if and when she had worked it out, she'd much rather try her first attempt at Alderheim magic in some secluded place. Not that she had any intentions of failing of course. Just in case. Certainly not out here in public where everyone could see.

"I couldn't awk-" her protest was cut short by staff being tossed at her, her hands instinctively coming up to catch it awkwardly.

"Frum."

Louise shot an incredulous stare at the red hooded mage. Despite being unable to make out his face from inside the shadow of the hood, which was odd now that she thought about it since it wasn't that dark, something told her that he was being serious.

"You have to be joking," she protested, waving the staff the quartet. "I've only been here four days and learning your magic for one of them! You can't seriously be expecting me to just cast a spell just like that." Even a prodigy like her mother had needed days and days of training before she could successfully call upon her own magic. New and strange magical systems or not, even they couldn't avoid that particular requirement, couldn't they? To think that she'd be able to conjure up a _**flame**_, a _**fireball **_even, why, she'd have to be like the... have to be...

It was at that point that she noticed the twin spheres of crackling orange flame circling the staff in her hands.

"Ahhum!"

Louise vaguely heard the words, though in the wonder that suffused her mind, she neither registered the speaker, nor deciphered the meaning behind them.

"Is that... my magic?" She asked no one in particular, reaching out with a hand, foolishly in hindsight, to touch at one of the balls of fire. There was the sensation of warm heat as her fingers neared it, but not as hot as she had imagined it should be. It seemed almost impossible. She'd barely even felt the drain on her willpower, so faint as to be practically non-existent. And yet there it was, serenely floating in the air, softly crackling with the promise of power. It was magic. Her magic, she realized with increasing excitement. And it hadn't exploded. An honest to Founder fireball that didn't blow up in her face.

"I did it..." she whispered. "I did it." she exclaimed, as if the first utterance just hadn't been strong enough, and incidentally getting an annoyed hiss from the librarian.

She jumped up triumphantly, waving the staff in her hands in the direction of her new-found friends. "I did it!"

The twin burning spheres promptly joined together and became a roaring tongue of fire, bathing Yellow in their flames.

Louise instantly paled as the sudden human torch jumped up, hoarsely screaming as he flailed about in pain. Oh Founder, what had she done? She hadn't meant for that. Stupid Zero! Her first success, and she was killing the people who'd helped her. Stupid, worthless worm! But even in her panicked state, a part of her retained enough clarity of mind to cut through her panic and think up a solution. Magic. Yellow was on fire. Her fault. But she could fix it. She had magic. She just needed _**water**_. Orbs of liquid sprang into existence.

Yellow continued howling like the souls of the damned. She concentrated.

_Lots _of _**water**_.

Louise had expected a gush of water when she directed the spell, a torrent powerful enough to douse the flames that were consuming her study partner.

She just hadn't realized how _fast _it would have been going. Or how much a lot of water really was.

It wasn't a short lived jet of water, like Red had demonstrated earlier. It was a frothing wall of raging liquid, roaring from staff tip like a never-ending waterfall going the wrong way with all the speed and energy of a cannon ball. The moving wall struck the flailing figure of Yellow and enveloped the student, immediately dousing the flames but also tearing him off his feet in a flailing mass of roaring water and limbs.

"Waaargbllleaaahhh!"

The staff dropped from her fingers a heartbeat later, ending the jet of water as suddenly as it began. But the remainder of the stream continued it's headlong rush. She heard the distinctive sound of glass shattering and the rapidly fading voice of Yellow. There was, maybe, something that sounded rather like a very faint thud.

Clapping her hands over her mouth, Louise rushed to the shattered window, heedless of the the soaked floor and the broken furniture. Down below on the courtyard, the figure of Yellow lay spread eagled, framed by a halo of broken glass and splintered wood. He twitched.

"Hurm furm" Red shrugged as he came alongside, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She'd get the hang of it, he seemed to say, even as Louise looked on at the destruction she had caused in utter horror.

"Neiberee." Black interjected.

Eventually.

* * *

Louise ran down the stairs, cursing every second it took for her to reach the destination. Tears blurred her sight, rolling heedlessly down her cheeks as she raced on uncaring.

Stupid Louise. Stupid little zero. Magic was the power of creation. No matter how benign the spell you intended, you never threw it about without a care for where it ended up. A simple, basic rule of safety that every mage was drilled in the moment they picked up a wand. Everyone should know and follow that rule by heart. Everyone but her.

But it had been so... so easy.

For so many agonizing years, she had been bereft of even a single successful spell, countless tutors and her hardest attempts leaving her in the shattered remnants of dreams and her local surroundings. Not even a tiny little mage light would spring forth when she called it, only the failures of a broken spell.

Not this magic, no. Not this power. It was eager, subservient, it practically gushed out of her at the slightest intent to call it forth. In a matter of mere days with the most cursory of learning, and on her first try to boot, she was calling forth powerful magic like a true mage, as easily as snapping her fingers. Easier even. It had taken no more effort than the twitch of a finger, and as unconsciously too, for the magic of Alderheim to respond to her. It had been incredible, overwhelming, so full of possibility that had previously been denied her.

But the first thing she had done with it...

Stupid, stupid, stupid Louise. Even her successes were marked with failure and horror.

Her eyes blurred with frantic tears as she continued running, finally bursting out of the door to the university courtyard.

Yellow was there, lying in a halo of shattered glass and steaming water. His robes were scorched and what she could see of his hands, the only exposed bits of flesh outside his robes, was a ruined mass of burns. He had been twitching, when she had seen him from the library tower. But now.

Now he was still and unmoving, limbs bent at unnatural angles. Not even the slight movement of the chest that followed breathing.

She shuddered inwardly, recoiling from the horrible sight. No. No no no no. She couldn't have caused this. She couldn't accept it. She... no. Fingers tightened around the loaned stave, bringing it closer to her as she began to focus her willpower into what she had learned.

Orbs of gentle green light manifested and began to orbit her as she turned her thoughts towards the strange Alderheim way of healing, the spheres of magical energy flowing into the tip of the stave. She focused her thoughts on healing, of undoing the damage she had done. The spheres vanished, and a stream of green light shot out from her staff, striking the body of Yellow as the air itself sang with crystalline chimes in the presence of healing energies. An aura of light engulfed his fallen frame, the magics at work.

He wasn't dead, she told herself. She hadn't ki-ki- killed him. The burns would heal. The cuts would close. He would breathe again. She tried to pour more power into the magic, struggling against the horrid conclusion. Yellow would be alright. He would be healed and recover from her terrible mistake. She would make this right. She had to.

**"...Ier?"**

"Oh please please please, don't be dead."

**"...ier?"**

"Don't be- huh?"

**"Adeebar!"**

Louise started, her concentration breaking as the spell collapsed on her, the beam of healing energies vanishing as abruptly as water in a furnace. That voice, it was familiar. She stared at the unmoving body of Yellow. It had sounded like... hope began to flare in her heart as she stared at his-

**"Neiberim rez."**

The voice was behind her.

Louise whirled about, but there was nobody there, just the empty courtyard stairs. But then who had spoken?

**"Neeber rez ni?"**

Her composure cracked. Louise took an uncertain step back from the unmoving body of Yellow, all sorts of horrible realizations running through her in that exact instance. No. No no no.

**"Rez!"**

She very nearly shrieked as something brushed against her shoulder. But it was Red, casually sauntering past her her, another stave in his hand. He turned his head back towards her, face hidden by the shadows of his cowl. She shrank back from the hood, imagining all sorts of accusations concealed within. Disgust and hatred at what she had done. Rightful anger, and deadly spells would follow. And she would-

"Neiberim rez."

Wait, what? Her mouth dropped open.

**"Ahum!"**

"Bring... bring him back?" she managed to croak out. But... but-

Red snapped his fingers, making a wordless sound of understanding. A crackling sphere of lighting exploded around his raised hand. A green orb soon followed. She cringed as Red raised his arm, casting a guilty look at Yellow's unmoving body.

There was sudden light.

A loud pop.

And just as suddenly Yellow was there, literally rising from the ground with his arms outstretched as he bathed in an aura of light. And then the light went out, the sound stopped as gravity reasserted itself and Yellow landed on his feet, looking all the world as if he hadn't been scorched by fires and thrown out a window only moments ago.

If anything, Louise felt her mouth drop even further. But... but... her eyes darted to where Yellow had lain. The body was still there, still- it was fading. Unravelling at the seams like a person made out of mist until nothing remained. She looked back at the... the mage before her. She thought of that voice, speaking beside her ear when its owner was supposed to be... dead.

"Rez." the yellow garbed mage said while brushing down his robes, as if that explained everything. Red simply held up two fingers.

"Tvier hlutr." He emphasized. Two elements. The fingers snapped.

"Heegr."

Simple.

* * *

Louise huddled in the corner of her room, arms wrapped around her knees as she softly rocked back and forth, eyes tightly shut.

She was dreaming. No. She was having a nightmare. Yes, yes. She wasn't in this... this farcical insane world. Her magic didn't send her here. No no no no. Little Louise was a failure, her spells never worked. She couldn't be here. Her summoning spell must have blown up in her face and knocked her out. She was in a coma. Or the explosion had broken her mind. Maybe she was dreaming she was insane. Or both. It was the only explanation. Nothing else could. Nothing else did.

The litany of denials went through her mind without pause. Yet they couldn't keep the memories from leaking into her consciousness.

She shook her head viciously, trying to banish them from her thoughts. All it did was make them more vivid. The phantom smell of smoke filled her nostrils, and crackle of remembered fire heated her face. She had killed someone. Not a friend. Not family. Certainly no one she had any particular attachments to. But still, she had ended the life of someone who had done nothing more than simply be there when she had finally cast a working spell. She felt sick. It was unforgivable, her success resulting in greater catastrophe than her worst failures.

And then right before her eyes... and then her crime was undone.

She keened softly. Death was final, it couldn't be healed, couldn't be reversed. But there were stories from her childhood, of dark necromancy that only the elves were rumoured to be capable of. Ancient, terrible magic, terrible for the blasphemy inflicted upon the natural order. And terrible for the beings that returned, maddened and crazed creatures that no natural being could be. She had always dismissed those tales as nothing more than silly superstition and fear mongering.

But to see it performed before her eyes. To witness mortality so easily cast aside with just two elements. TWO! To see the man she had accidentally killed so cavalierly brush of his death as if it were no more troubling than a stumble. But worse of all, nobody seemed bothered about it. Not that she'd killed her fellow student, not that he'd been brought back, none of it. Not the students, not the teachers, not even Yellow himself. Nobody cared.

It was terrifying, it was horrific, it... it made _sense_.

The sudden realization chilled her to the bone. All that bizarre leaps of logic, when she could find any logic at all, all that insanity that she took for simple idiocy. The absolute lack of concern about dying. There was a twisted logic binding the evidence before her and those precautionary tales of her childhood. She thought of her supposed classmates. She thought of not-a-vampire Vlad. She thought of the beardm- headmaster who had very nearly driven _her _insane with his nonsense.

They weren't just odd. They were all stark raving mad, every single one of them. Crazier than... than... than anything she could think up to compare it with.

The other realization struck a moment later. She was the only one who wasn't mad, she hadn't died. She hadn't been brought back as some maddened undead horror.

The only one.

In a university full of insane mages.

She shuddered, feeling more isolated than anything like before. She was trapped in this insane land, surrounded by equally insane mages, their insanity matched only by their incredible command of magic. Was this what she wanted? Would she... would she become like them? Some insane caricature of a noble driven mad by the power they wielded?

It couldn't be true. Nothing like that could be true.

But what if-

"Vladaree?"

Everything is alright?

Louise snapped her eyes open. She very nearly shrieked, scooting backwards on her hands and legs, only to bump against the unyielding wall. The memories she had been trying to suppress so desperately leaped to the forefront. She hadn't even heard the door open, much less his footfalls. There was a stave in his hand, glowing faintly with magic.

It couldn't be him. It wasn't possible! But the treacherous remembrances whispered their rebuttals. Oh yes, it was definitely true, she had seen it herself. There was no denying what had transpired, and what now stood before her. All those tales of vengeful ghosts and maddened undead seeking revenge flooded her mind. Whatever thoughts she had of defending herself were drowned by the sheer terror of what she faced and the fact that her own stave was well out of reach. This was it, her thoughts gibbered, the pretense was over. She was going to-

"Ierr... dabaroo?"

A sausage was proffered in her direction.

Louise stared.

"Frum," Yellow offered, giving the foodstuff in his hand an encouraging shake.

It took a second verbal nudge from the robed mage before her mental functions managed to wrap themselves around what he had been saying, and a slightly more exasperated third attempt for her to respond to it. With a trepidation reserved only for the most venomous reptiles, Louise reached out for the sausage with a trembling hand. It was only after she closed her fingers around it that she suddenly remembered the fate of the last sausage she'd seen.

…

After a few heartbeats, Louise very slowly cracked open an eye. Contrary to her expectations, the sausage in her hand hadn't exploded. Black's fate wouldn't be hers yet it seemed. But then why was Yellow-

Her stomach chose to growl at that moment, reminding her that she'd missed dinner.

"Neiber" Yellow explained helpfully, tapping a hand against his midsection in an obvious message before turning around and exiting her room before she could even get a word in edgewise.

Leaving her with a somewhat greasy looking sausage.

* * *

There were days when all the signs indicated that things would not go well. Waking up still in her day clothes, feeling considerably greasy and thoroughly bedraggled, a half eaten sausage inexplicably clutched in her hand, with only a fragmented recollection of the previous day wasn't an absolute guarantee, but for Louise, it was certainly foreboding. Especially since the last thing she remembered of the day before was taking a bite out of that very sausage.

At the very least, neither she nor the sausage had exploded, so that had to count for something, right?

That particular thought had lasted for a while as she washed and dressed up. At least, until she caught sight of the borrowed stave leaning against the wall of her dorm room, way the simple wooden focus glinting in the daylight as if mocking her. She hunched over, and despite the warm sun through the window, shivered. She still felt sick over what she had done, and more than a little frightened by the revelations of what had followed immediately after. No, not just frightened, more like terrified.

Not even guilt from causing the death of a classmate could overshadow the horror she should have felt on learning how little dying actually meant amongst these mages.

But... Yellow hadn't seemed any stranger, any more bloodthirsty or broken than he had been when she had first met him. Even if she could ignore the terrifying implications of what had been done, accident or not, how could anyone just brush that off? If her fellow mage had been filled with rage and anger, demanding the satisfaction of revenge or justice, she could have understood, accepted it even. It was her fault all of this had happened. But Yellow hadn't been any of that.

He had actually been _concerned_ about her.

She... she didn't know how to take that. Was this a product of madness, some kind of sickness of the mind that must surely have followed such a traumatic experience? How could Ye- _anyone _be so nonchalant about that and still be concerned about people? Or was it just a sign of how little anyone cared about, about, her train of thought sputtered out and ground to a halt, all logic unable to continue in the face of the mounting paradoxes.

Her thoughts were still a jumbled mass of confusion when suddenly her door noisily burst open, disgorging a trio of colourful robed figures. The brightly coloured robes of Yellow figured prominently among their number. A finger was pointed in her direction.

"Deeber!"

"Wh-what's the meaning of-," Louise's protest cut off in a startled squawk as a pair of hands latched onto her arms, rooting her to the spot. Another student hustled up with a large heap of unidentifiable cloth in his hands. Before she could do more than blink, the mage threw the cloth over her head and everything went black.

For one heart stopping moment, Louise couldn't do anything. She just stood there in the sudden darkness and settling weight of cloth, rooted on the spot as a dozen different terrors shot through her heart. But before the thoughts could do more than coalesce, the darkness was pulled away and her arms released, revealing her room and two of the robed mages taking a step back from her.

Louise blinked, finally realizing them for her previous study partners, Red and Black.

And then something plopped on her head.

Yellow stepped into her peripheral vision, turning her around with a quick shove until she was facing a mirror on the wall.

"Neeber ree do neeb"

Look the look, he seemed to say.

Louise felt her eyes going to the reflected vision and blinked again.

Somehow, in the space of a few seconds, she had been put in robes. Not the dowdy brown robes that the majority of students and faculty wore, though it bore a similar cut. Some cloth-maker had decided in a fit of madness to dye the entire ensemble in excessive amounts of of bright pink. The collar of the robes were upturned, a semicircle of cloth reaching up well past her ears, almost up to her forehead actually. Instead of falling down, it stayed upright in a fashion that spoke of a stiff internal lining. A brief flash of embarrassment ran through her before she realized that her old clothes were still on underneath it all. But on her head was a hat.

It was the among the most ridiculous hats she had ever seen in her life. Including the one that had been shaped like a purple lizard she had seen at a town festival once.

The hat was a circular construction, with a stiff brim that was wider than her shoulders. Between her oversized collar and hat, it blocked out almost all light, leaving her reflected face seemingly shrouded in murky shadows. That alone by itself wouldn't have been too bad, she thought after a moment. It added a sense of mystery to her appearance. If not for the centerpiece. Instead of a low hemisphere like a sensible, if overly large sun hat, the crown was a a ridiculously tall cone almost as long as her forearm. It easily added another foot to her height, somehow making her seem smaller than she already was.

She hated it immediately.

But just as she was about to reach up and tear it off her head, she noticed all three of the mages nodding. Red even went so far as to lift his hand, giving her a thumbs up.

"Neeber ree magicka!"

She only had time to gape before Black and Yellow grabbed her arms, pulling her out of the room in a sudden rush as Red snatched up her borrowed stave and throwing it to Black.

"Wh-what's going on!" She practically bellowed as she tried not to trip and smack the ground as the two ran on.

"Derebe magicka fri" Yellow said amiably without even slowing pace. Magical practice classes.

"Ahum!" Black chimed in from the other side, calling up a small ball of fire with his free hand... and promptly setting the limb on fire.

Louise suddenly felt very afraid.

* * *

Contrary to her initial fears, the class on magical practice was turning out to be quite normal for a change, and was decidedly devoid of the expected chaos and impromptu spontaneous combustion.

The students who had arrived before them were an orderly bunch, most of them wearing the same dull brown robes she'd seen the others wearing around the academy. The sole exception, a blue garbed student she hadn't seen before, had waved them over. With six multicoloured balls of magical energy swirling around the outstretched limb, each one of a clearly unique element. She had shuddered inwardly at the sight. A single stack of the flame element was bad enough when miscast, she didn't want to imagine what would have happened if all six had gone off.

But there hadn't been any magical mishap, and she soon found herself sitting in the same row as Blue, as he was known, and her impromptu escorts. That they were singularly the most colourful of the gathered students struck her as somewhat odd, especially with all the muted browns of everyone else. But it was only a passing thought as the professor came into the hall shortly after and classes began in earnest.

For the most part, it was a mundane and sensible affair. The instructor would demonstrate a single simple elemental spell, expounding on its varied uses before asking one student or another to emulate his example. It was almost like how the Tristain academy conducted magical practice, really.

Though with a lot more snoring, she noted with some annoyance.

For what was supposed to be capable students, the three mages who comprised her erstwhile study group had fallen asleep shortly after classes began. Only Blue seemed to be awake, though he paid as much attention to the class as the other three. Instead of sleeping, the blue garbed mage was more concerned with the various tiny orbs of magical power circling his arm which he seemed to be arranging into an increasingly varied number of patterns. Louise noted with a small amount of concern that fire and lightning figuring prominently among them, even if Blue seemed more competent about handling such things than Black. Unlike any self respecting professor of the Tristain Academy however, the teacher seemed content to ignore the laxity the four displayed in his class. Still, it was something mostly ordinary and for a little while, she found her thoughts drifting back to the events of the day before.

Until the teacher changed topics.

"You all have experience with most of the elementary and basic combination of spells," the robed man said with a bored sounding tone, waggling his fingers where a ball of fire flitted for emphasis, "that any mage can perform. But it is time to demonstrate your proficiency in the finer arts of magick. Today you will tested on your ability to call up a simple one that is suitable for your level, haste."

Blue perked his head at that, lifting a hand in a swirl of fire, lightning and healing orbs.

In hindsight, that should probably have been her first warning sign that things were about to go downhill.

"Vareemer skotjr magicka," Blue proclaimed, his gibberish simultaneously as incomprehensible to her ears as the other three, yet understandable in a fashion. "Ahum."

He was going to volunteer, though there was something about his tone that didn't seem to sit right with her.

Louise was starting to get a certain feeling in the back of her spine. It was an unpleasant feeling, alien, yet familiar somehow, as if she had been on the receiving end of such feelings before. Perhaps... no, she refused to think that way. She knew practically nothing about Blue, and it would be hypocritical of her to unfairly judge another person in that manner when she had hated it so much. Anyway, with all the spell patterns he had been creating earlier, Blue certainly seemed a lot more competent than Black when it came to magical aptitude. Not to mention that no one seemed to be particularly bothered about it either, so she was quite sure that it was nothing more than unfounded nerves. Besides, it was a spell of quickening, not a fireball or anything like that. How could that possibly go…

No. She was not having that thought. No no no no.

Blue lifted his hand, the spheres of elemental power swirling away from his hand and going around his body. Louise could practically feel the power crackling in the air as shimmers of light began to play about his body.

"Vaneemer dabeeb skotjr," he proclaimed, the spheres coalescing into a single ball of white light as a tingle of worry ran down her spine. Not quickening? With a satisfied nod, Blue waved his hand.

"Bsod."

The light flared. Her hair stood on end. There was a sound, an alien trill unlike anything she had ever before experienced. And then there was something beside her, a flash of blue light that stole her attention. A pane of blue. Unfamiliar white script. A soul chilling glimpse into_ otherness_. A reality she couldn't comprehend. And then it was gone, shrinking into oblivion.

Black yelped, succumbing to gravity with a thud as his chair vanished.

Louise tried to press back in her chair as much as she could, her eyes darting between the muttering form of Black and where his chair had been a moment only seconds ago.

"Dukker reem ne magicka" Blue nodded to himself, "neeber blar gluggr neem re bani"

Despite the chills running through her spine, she had to blink at that. And not just at the incredible claim that Blue had only just devised that... thing his spell had created. He called it screens of death?

"Ahum!" Black shook his fist from underneath the table, the outrage clear in his voice. She could sympathize. What if it had been her chair that had been sucked into that whatever... what if it had been _her_?

"Ier..." Blue admitted with a shrug. "Drepa gefa illr"

It wasn't as if his magic could be _aimed?_

Louise very nearly fainted.

Black responded rather differently. She was certain she wouldn't have jumped out from under the table and punched Blue in the face. The blue garbed mage fell to the floor, rolling with the impact. But the former quickly gave chase, bringing his stave down to bear on Blue.

…

Where had _that _come from? But before she could even spend another thought on that, Blue's hands flashed, reaching over into the shadowed corner of the classroom before improbably extracting a sword out of the darkness.

"Deeber!" Blue challenged from the floor, pinned down by the stave even as the point of his sword was pointed at Black's neck, "Nu bi!"

Louise looked frantically at the teacher, hoping that he would put a stop to this insanity. But the man was simply covering his face with his hands, not even bothering to look at the duo.

"Ier..." Yellow spoke up from beside her, "neeber ree vig?"

She must have looked like a fish with her mouth open like that, a tiny voice whispered inside her head. But she couldn't help it, even if she couldn't have heard that right. Had Yellow really just compared Black to a barking dog? Was he-

With an enraged yell, magic flared around Black's stave and the question became academic as Yellow was blasted back a dozen paces, trailing smoke and tiny arcs of lightning.

Silence reigned for all of a heartbeat.

Yellow groaned.

A chair fell down.

"Nikker re svefn?" Red muttered sleepily, waving a stave in his hand. "Laeti."

Couldn't he sleep? It was noisy.

The teacher walked out through the back door.

Louise felt her jaw drop.

Some students jumped up, a few carrying staves, others with hefty books that suddenly looked no less lethal. One whirled a string of sausages about like a whip. A fireball leaped from the outstretched hands of Blue, but his aim was off, missing Black by a wide margin. A brown robed student ignited, lightning crackling wildly from his palms as the human torch ran screaming about. People were struck by lightning, more spells were cast. A great deal more students entered the fray. The air hummed as streams of magical energy crisscrossed the air. One of them crossed another. Wet, pulping explosions followed.

Louise bravely flung herself under her desk. A small boulder cannoned by just past where her head had been.

Someone screamed in terror, and she only realized belatedly that it was her doing the screaming.

'_OhlordohlordImgoingtodie' _She huddled as close to the floor as she could, her face wet with something warm and iron-stink. Somehow, the stave Red had lent her the day before was lying on the floor within reach. She clutched it close, trying to think of something, anything from all her lessons that would let her get out of this intact.

But just as the thought of flight crossed her mind, something landed on her desk with a thump, filling the air with smoke and the crackle of flames. Before she could even flinch, water roared, a frothy column of raging liquid slamming into her desk and sweeping her out from underneath in a tangle of limbs and panicked gurgling.

It only lasted a few seconds, but when wave passed and Louise could see again, she was out in the open. Surrounded by destructive magic and angry mages. With swords. And fireballs. And things she didn't even have names for.

Headed in her general direction.

She shrieked, clutching the staff close to her, never seeing the glint of yellow light suffusing the focus. Her lineage for a way out, a _**shield**_, a _**barrier**_, _anything! _

Lightning cracked.

And harmlessly arced around a shimmering golden dome that suddenly surrounded her. The air hummed with a strange endless thrum, muting all other sounds from beyond the barrier.

Louise blinked, the muted battlefield affording her a moment of auditory peace incongruent with what her eyes were seeing. Beyond the shimmering globe of light, deadly spells lashed out, mages died and exploded. A ball of fire sizzled through the air detonating against her barrier with a fury of a firestorm. Yet the protective shield held, turning aside blade and spell with equal ease.

She was... safe? She started to stand up, looking to the stave and almost daring not to think the thoughts even as the battle raged beyond. Was this... was this her magic too? It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Nothing of the Brimiric magic would be capable of producing a barrier of light.

A beam of humming arcane energy, encased by crackling arcs of of lightning lanced out, striking her shield... and bounced back the way it came, blasting the casting mage into unidentifiable chunks.

Her dinner the day before threatened to make a bid for freedom as she clamped a hand over her mouth. It was horrible, senseless slaughter of their peers. How could they do this? They were killing themselves, murdering each other for no reason she could think of. It was an insanity she couldn't even begin to understand. But... but at least she was safe inside this dome, right?

The humming stopped at that exact moment, the protective light fading into nothingness.

A boulder caromed by, striking the top of her hat and nearly knocking it off.

Louise dove for the ground with a shriek.

'_Think protective thoughts.' _The litany ran through her head as she focused on the staff with all her might._ 'Think protective thoughts.'_

* * *

It was night, and Louise was alone in her room, trying very hard not to scream. Her robes were bedraggled, her hair a mess, the hat which she thought so silly now irreversibly bent at an angle that left the cone hanging down her back. Yet she didn't give a mouldy ecu about her appearances.

She had survived magical practice.

Correction, that tiny little piece of her fading sanity squeaked.

She was the _only _survivor. Barely.

The protective dome she had managed to conjure had been destroyed no less than six times in the ensuing battle. The only reason why it hadn't collapsed the seventh time was because there was no one left to throw any spells her way. The entire class had murdered themselves in an orgy of senseless violence, the last being Red who stepped on a conjured crystalline globe. The last she had seen of him then was his screaming figure, trailing smoke and flames as he was launched out through the windows at impossible speeds. Louise had never before seen a battlefield in her life, but she was sure that if she did, it would resemble the classroom at the end.

And then, only then did the teacher return. She wanted to berate the useless mage then, for letting all of that pointless bloodshed happen. But all she had managed to achieve was a pitiful little mewl of despair.

If the teacher had heard her, he gave no sign, simply giving her a light nod of acknowledgement before raising his staff and letting power crackle through it. It had only lasted a few moments, but she had felt her breath hitch then, dreaded expectation filling her as she watched what would follow. Scorch marks faded, flames were put out, and the bodies, what were still recognizably bodies, vanished. And then they were there.

Red. Blue, even Yellow and Black who had been exploded into a hazy red mist only minutes ago. The students. They were all there, as large as life and not dead as they sat back on their chairs.

Only for the lunch bell to ring, and a stampede of slippered feet to mark the mass exodus from the classroom.

Still within her protective shield, Louise alternated between relief, shock and pure horror so quickly that she was sure she was going mad.

And then.

And then...

The teacher spoke her doom.

"Magical practice continues tomorrow."

Of the many skills that Louise had cultivated over her short life, none had been honed so keenly as the powers of denial and hope. Denial had allowed her to persevere in the face of overwhelming evidence of her magical deficiency, and against all the taunts her classmates had thrown her way. She only needed to study a little harder, put a bit more effort, and the world would be her oyster. Hope helped preserve her dreams of finally turning the tables on her tormentors and proving her magical worth, insulating against the cruel slings and bows of life. Especially when they were loaded with failed spells.

For seven years, ever since she'd first picked up a wand, they had been her mainstays.

Five days after her arrival in this land, hope had curled up in some dark and lonesome alley while denial was considering a career in alcoholism.

"There's no place like home," she repeated to herself, trying not to shudder as she hid under her bed. "There's no place like home."

* * *

**A/N:** This little production was the result of spacebattle's resident tentacle making an interesting suggestion that I took up. A lot of random snippets showcasing various such instances took place, and before long, Making Magick took form. I rather hope you all like it.


	2. Chapter 02

_Disclaimer: If I did own Magicka, I'd probably try and fund this crossover for real. Would have made a great expansion pack. Sadly, I don't.  
_

* * *

**Making Magick 02**

For the Love of Sausages

The Alderheim university was a richly appointed castle, decorated with all manner of luxurious furnishings that would not be out of place in a royal palace. From its red velvet carpets to its masterwork paintings to the copious amount of enchantments that went into the tiniest of things, such as clap-activated mage lights, there was little in human civilization to rival in sheer opulence. And while there might have been other, more contemporary structures throughout the lands of Midgard, Aldrheim had been constructed by its builders with an eye towards the deep and storied traditions of magical society.

That was to say, making it out of the most durable and strongest materials available.

Louise hadn't known about that little fact, or understood the reason when she first found out. That ignorance had only lasted until shortly after her first session of magical practice.

Ensconced in her room, bundled up under blankets and sitting on her bed, her back to the sturdy, magic proof walls that the castle had been constructed out of, she appreciated... no, she gave profuse thanks to the builders who had made the decision. They had understood that as the number of wizards in a single location increased, the probability of a magical disaster occurring quickly approached one.

It was _tradition._

She had never imagined the possibility of such a thing, but Louise found herself missing the endless teasing and insults from her fellow students. There were the normal things of course, her old room, the familiar sights and sounds of home, perfectly understandable. But never the the jeers and taunts from her peers. Mere days ago, if anyone had told her she would be missing those hateful disparaging remarks as much as she missed home, Louise would have called that person delusional.

Right now, she would have gladly parted with a hundred thousand ecu just to have Kirche in front of her and insulting her lack of stature.

Even if she had the magic she'd always dreamed of, at least her previous peers hadn't been just as likely to throw a fireball at you as look at you.

And half the time, it was by accident.

But on the other hand, there was something to be said about the methods that the Aldrheim university trained its students in the ways of magic, as well as their magical systems, at least once she was able to make coherent sentences in that respect.

In some ways, it resembled the heretical ancient magic that the elves were reputed to use, though the necessity of foci argued against that. To them, magic needed no chants, no arias. Merely the desired outcome and the desire to draw upon the elements was all that a mage of Midgard needed to control powers of line or even greater. Despite its alien differences to the Brimiric magic she had learned all her life, Midgardian magic was both simple and intuitive enough that she had quickly grasped its basics.

She had gained a proficiency in magic that she would never have believed possible. Impervious walls of stone or streaks of lightning appeared at her command, shimmering cloaks of golden light, proof against spell and blade covered her frame if she wished it, quick as thought itself. Even healing magic, something which she appreciated but always disdained, was within her grasp.

All this in just three classes of magical practice.

A shiver ran down her frame at the thought.

She had also nearly died ten times as often in those 'classes'. Calling them magical disasters were more accurate. Even at her worst in Tristain, the accidental devastation she had witnessed in those sessions far outstripped them by leagues. And the conflict. She had tried to rationalize them, to view it as the kind of magical duels that had long since been forbidden. But that attempt had given up the ghost a long time ago. It was more like a drunken brawl between commoners, carried out in deadly earnestness. Only with magic that could easily be classed as square rank back home.

There was a logic to it, she knew. A mad, insane kind of logic that would never have survived in all of Helkaginia, yet somehow flourished here.

You couldn't take a life in this mad world, not from the mages anyway. You could only 'borrow' it for as long as it took another to cast the appropriate revival spell. When final end could be cheated by stacking two magical elements, _**two**__, _then the main reasons for not having duels, for not resorting to deadly force to resolve any argument simply faded away. Who would fear death when it was no more inconvenience than a slap or insult?

She did. She feared it like any mere mortal rightfully should, more so ever since she had found the terrible truth behind Alderheim's academic syllabus.

Three sessions of magical classes which had invariably ended in fire, lightning, explosions and the screaming of her peers. And dying. Oh so much dying.

But for her? Zero deaths.

A demented giggle escaped her lips at the thought, a tiny flash of pride flickering through her for that accomplishment. What would her former peers, what would that strumpet, have to say about her if she were to proudly proclaim herself as Louise the Zero, the mage with zero deaths?

…

The laughter stopped. Her expression fell and she clutched her blankets closer. Founder preserve her, she **was **going mad. She hadn't died yet, and she was already starting to think as crazily as everyone else around her was. How much longer would she have before she was just another insane and suicidal spell throwing mage? Would she still want to go home then?

Would she care?

The bundle beneath the blankets shuddered, and then got up, a hand emerging from beneath the cloth to reach for the desk, where books and quills were carelessly scattered.

She couldn't keep this up. Not like this. She could practically feel her mind falling apart just trying to cope.

She needed stability. Something to anchor herself to so she wasn't swept away by all the insanity around her.

Before she just stopped caring altogether.

* * *

Karin Desiree de la Valliere was a woman of strong principles and iron rules. Chief amongst those was the rule of steel. It was a rule that permitted no weakness to lie fallow when it could be corrected, to accept no less than the fullest possible effort in every endeavour. The way she carried herself, the poise and determination which she did everything, the control that governed her actions, they were who she was. To remain calm no matter the situation, to rationally think out each and every crisis so that it could be confronted without losing sight of one's goal. She did not shout and bluster when angered, as her peers were wont to do. Nor did she waver nor cry in times of defeat and loss.

She stood before the cenotaph, her poise unchanged, her expressions studiously neutral, if severe, as they always were. And yet there was an unnatural stiffness to her posture, a severity expressed only in the brief arch to her eyebrows. The funeral, quiet and sparsely attended, had long since ended, the mourners having returned to their homes. Still she stood there, glaring at the simple monument as if she could change history through sheer concentration. She did not rage, nor did she vocalize the hollow void that had taken residence in her heart. She did not weep.

Steel did not cry.

But it was so accursed hard not to.

She took a deep breath, the first break of her near motionless vigil in an hour. Her youngest daughter was gone. Dead. Killed in an accident that had little sense nor rhyme behind it, the very ritual that was to mark her value as a mage taking her life instead. There had been no foul play, no hidden treachery that was common in the game of thrones that the nobility played. It had been a miscast spell, an accident of such incredible odds that no one could have predicted it. A royal inquiry had confirmed it, as had her own independent research.

If her daughter had fallen in battle, she could have acknowledged the loss as the fortunes of war, and then enact terrible vengeance against the slayer. If it had been the machinations of a rival noble family, she would have personally cast their house down and ruined each and every single one of them. In every possible scenario that she had feared where harm could fall on her family, she had taken precautions, known what would have been required of her.

But the accident had no one to blame, no reason she could fathom save only that her daughter had failed, somehow. Anger smoldered in her breast, but she had no target to direct it towards. Nothing she could strike at. Hidden beneath her cool facade, teeth ground impotently.

It began to rain, the sudden deluge of falling water that always came with spring. Yet she did not seek shelter, did not need to. A barrier of woven wind stilled the sudden gusts and deflected the rain before either could touch her. She stood there before the monument, shielded from all the elements save the one gnawing at her heart.

She could have blamed her once subordinate for letting it happen, for it was under the Flame Snake's watch that this happened. She had very nearly done so the moment she arrived at the Academy, his stricken countenance only stoking the cold fire already burning within her. She could have blamed Brimir, as heretical as the thought was, for taking away her youngest daughter in ways they had yet to even understand. She could even have blamed her daughter. Blamed her for the failures that had plagued her all her life. For a failure that had taken her away forever.

The voice of logic, ever bound by the rules of steel, did not. Accidents happened.

But she could not suppress the niggling doubts that persisted.

If the fault was not theirs, then had she, in some way, failed her daughter?

The shield of wind wavered as the storm grew stronger, a sudden gust cutting past her defenses before it sealed once more. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Of all her daughters, she had feared losing Cattleya the most. Strong in magic, but frail, oh so frail. A tearing malady they could not cure, only stave off with periodic visits by the most skilled healers they could find. But she and her husband knew they were fighting a losing battle. Their second daughter was living on borrowed time.

But it was Louise who had died. Little Louise with her mothers looks and fire, driven to succeed at any cost the moment she was old enough to pick up a wand. So much like her, that stubborn determination that Louise always kept to. Louise, whom she had hoped would follow in her footsteps. But now she was just gone, and Karin feared that with the grief that had stricken Cattelya, she might lose another daughter before too long. In the deepest parts of her heart, secret even from her husband, was the hidden fear that she knew the true cause. The reason for Cattelya's sickness, for Louise's magical failures.

Her.

Karin's wand hand involuntarily tightened, the wood creaking slightly. Her past was a well kept secret, but she couldn't hide the truth from herself. She knew well the doctrines of faith, of the noble's mandate. Was this her punishment then, for rising above her station and succeeding where all others had failed? A curse, a hidden sickness, a fault within her body born from her low born lineage that she had unwittingly burdened two of her three daughters with? If it was... if it was...

She turned around then, facing away from the cenotaph as she ruthlessly crushed the heretical thoughts as she began the long walk back home. She was the Heavy Wind. Her family, her daughters, they were everything to her. She could not jeopardize them with irrational behaviour.

Lightning crackled in the skies above, painting everything in jarring shades of monochrome.

She would be strong. Composed. Even with all that she had lost there were still things she could do, things she should do. The intrigues amongst the nobles, within Tristain and without, would not grant her the time nor space to grieve. There are no armistices in the world of nobility, and to be taken by grief is a weakness all would exploit. Strength is the only thing they respect, stepping with caution for fear of her might. She had failed one daughter already. She would not fail her remaining two. It is the only way she can preserve her daughter's aspirations now. She was steel. Unbending. Enduring.

The trails of wetness down her face were the rain, or so she told herself.

Nothing more.

* * *

She wrote letters.

_Dear Mother,_

_I hope this letter reaches you in as good health as I am._

Even though they would never reach their intended recipient, even though she held no hope that there would be any reply, she wrote them still. Because there was one other person they were intended for. The faint scratching of the quill paused, her lips pursed in thought for a moment. The quill tip dipped to paper and the flow of words continued.

She was writing for own sake as well.

_I know this may come as a bit of a surprise, given how things might have... appeared, but I assure you that am alive and well. I am not exactly sure where I am in relation to Helkaginia, but it would appear that I am on an entirely new continent by the name of Midgard! What's more, there is an academy of magic here as well, though not quite as grand as the academy of Tristain of course._

There was no darkness in her room as before, the enchanted candles banishing shadows with their steady glow. The bundle of blankets which she had once huddled beneath was now cast aside, neatly piled away in the corner of her bed. The letters were a comforting ritual, a fragment of a saner life before the summoning, before the magicks that shattered her preconceptions and the mad mages that wielded them. The bright lights, the letters, they were a facsimile of that life now, imitation normality that she built as a bulwark against the loneliness and insanity all about her.

_Which leads me to how I arrived here, I suppose. It is frustratingly difficult to get all the details, but as best as I have been able to determine, it was an... accidental summoning. It sounds terribly preposterous, I know, but it appears that I was summoned by the magi here, entirely by accident, into the very classroom where they were conducting classes. As you can imagine, it was as much a shock to me as it was to them. _

_But I hasten to assure you that the spell they used is nothing at all like the holy familiar summoning ceremony that we use back home._

_Summoning a mage of all things, much less a high noble, would be ridiculous of course._

_Rather, their summoning spells are far simpler, if more precise and varied. Instead of a creature to match the mage, their spells call upon a specific magical creature to fulfill an immediate task before being sent back. Sadly, it seems that this spell of theirs that brought me was something of an experiment, a test of new magic with widely varied results. If there are any conditions to fulfill before returning, if there are any to begin with, the faculty here claim not to know it or are unwilling to share it. Given further observation of the spell in use resulted in a hamster at one point, which promptly bit the eye of the caster before exploding, I am hesitant to press the point._

_Fortunately, the faculty here have accepted responsibility for this accidental kidnapping of theirs and have promised to help me find a way home with all due haste. In the meantime, I have not been idle either._

_Mother._

_I don't quite know how to say this, but..._

She had always imagined what they would say. Her mother, her sisters, what they would think as they read the letters she had written home. Then, she had agonized, always trying to put on an upbeat tone to her messages and downplay the failures that they would surely know about. She imagined what they would say now.

_I have magic. _

_At long last, I have magic. I can cast spells now without them failing on me. Founder help me, it's so hard to even think about it and not smile. And not just a single element either. Fire, water, earth, even lightning answers to my call mother. I can use them all with equal ease and I do not think I have begun to even reach the limits of what I can do with them. The way they teach magic here, the principles they have behind it, they see it so differently from what we're used to. They make it so easy to grasp, impossibly so. I can't even begin to pen down half of what I now know as it seems so fantastical as to be impossible. It's hard to believe, even I have difficulty believing it, but I can't deny the results._

The words came easily now, flowing from the quill tip with uncharacteristic swiftness as she poured out her feelings. But even then the habits of a lifetime in school were not so easily erased, masking her cry for help beneath good cheer and assuring words of success.

_I know it sounds terribly boastful to say this after so many disappointments, but I think if I continue to test my limits, I may one day rise to the rank of a square class mage._

_Part of the reason, I believe, is due to the other students. Though I am by all rights a stranger to them, they have readily accepted me as one of their own without any regard to blood or station, helping me improve on my magic by leaps and bounds. A few of them have actually taken to tutoring me as well-_

A partial lie. She had never lied before in her letters home. Mother had disapproved of lies as much as she had of weakness. But the whole truth wouldn't, couldn't commit to paper. Mr Yellow, Black, Red, even Mr Blue who attended their subsequent study sessions, they had shown her more about magic than she could have gleaned from the books alone, pushing her understanding and control of magic to ever greater heights.

_-in their own way._

Even if everything had a tendency to end in fire.

_I believe that a few of them may even prove to be worthwhile friends._

She wasn't so blind as to miss the camaraderie that existed between the four. Yet she was certain that friends, _good_ friends, didn't throw lethal magic at each other for any reason whatsoever.

_Even if their customs are a little odd._

Even if they did laugh about blown up after being put back together.

Louise shuddered, the reflex turning her latest words into a series of incomprehensible scrawls. Lips curled downwards as she stared at the mess, considering just starting over again. A moment's thought was all she needed to veto the idea, the quill tip dipping down to parchment once more.

_I have so much to tell you Mother, and I fear there isn't enough paper in the world to pen it all down._

_But what I want to tell you most is..._

She paused, a slight hitch to her throat as she considered this treason, this betrayal of the singular most important rule she had been shaped around. But... surely, just this once would be alright? This momentary weakness that her bloodline should be proof against?

_I will make you proud. I don't know how long it will take before I come home, but I promise that when I do, I will be someone you will be proud to call your own._

_Your faithful daughter,_

_Louise._

The quill stopped moving, the scratching of it's nib ended as she put the writing implement down and took in her handiwork. Fine grains of sand were sifted, powdering the ink and drying the letter before she rolled it up, keeping it within her desk drawers.

With a long sigh, Louise got up to her feet and put a hand to her heart. She felt... better somehow. Calmer. More at ease than she had been before. Logically, she knew it wouldn't last. It was already mid-morning, and classes would begin soon enough. Not magical practice, thank the Founder, just magic theory and history. But the four would be there.

Four student magi who drove her to no end of confusion, fright, worry and outright terror at times. And yet they had been the first amongst her peers to welcome her, to help her learn even outside of the study groups their professor had arranged. If they were in the Tristain Academy of magic, if they weren't so insanely violent with each other to the point of regular mutual murder, she would have without a doubt, considered them her friends.

But, Founder preserve her, it was getting difficult to see them in any other light.

She huffed, reaching for the door to her room. She could do this. She could face another day of this magical madhouse and all its inhabitants. She had told Mother that she would do her proud, and now that the opportunity was there, she couldn't do anything but seize it.

And as the door closed behind her, words came unbidden in the dim corners of her consciousness. Words she could never say, much less pen down to paper.

_I miss you mother. I miss home, Cattelya and Eleanore. Even if it's only been a few days since I arrived here. I miss you all so much._

_I wish I was home now._

_Before I go insane._

* * *

It was a common misconception amongst the peasantry that the Alderheim wizards didn't particularly care about the world beyond their walls. At least beyond the occasional theoretical mental exercise speculating on the existence of a world outside said walls, seeing how they rarely, if ever, ventured through those doors. And why not? They had a luxurious castle to live in, plentiful cheese, wine and sausages, and even the most ambitious dark wizard tended to mellow out considerably after their twelfth aperitif. It was a happy agreement for all concerned, because a contented, and more importantly, shut-in wizard was one _not _going about the countryside setting things on fire over an argument about sausages.

The world certainly didn't need wizards.

Barring the occasional goblin incursion that threatened the local community. Or renegade wizards going about torching villages despite Alderheim's best efforts at curbing such behavior. Or any other kind of world ending threat that seemed to occur with, to most non-wizards, distressing frequency.

It was thus only good manners that wizards of the university did pay attention to the outside world, every day, or perhaps weeks, or at least once in a while. Just so they could greet the newest disaster with some preparation of course.

"Neeber!"

Certainly the current shortage of cheese was nothing of the sort, though Red was inclined to consider it a... minor concern. That didn't stop him from giving Black a small jolt of lightning to keep him focused on the more important things.

"Nikker ree dukker"

In more understandable parlance, once one spent the months necessary to navigate the labyrinthine nuances of their unique language... or used a more convenient translation spell, _"Coursework first, food later."_

Yellow simply spun about on his chair while Black sizzled, pointing out his clouded crystal ball.

"_But there's nothing worth watching!" _he protested. _"Goblins attack settlement, the army attacks them back. It's all reruns."_

"Ahum!" Blue agreed forcefully. _"We're not going to get credit for saving some sorry village. I still say new spellwork would be worth a lot more to our marks."_

"_Spellwork smellwork," _Black wheezed dismissively, waving off the few wisps of smoke that rose from his robes. A snap of his fingers bathed him in green light, undoing Red's admonishment in an eyeblink. _"You're always trying to find that _one great magick_ that will '__**change**__ the world' when all you've managed is to blow stuff up. Every two bit wizard already knows how to do that."_

"_If Fumbles McMagicka over there stopped setting himself on fire every five seconds," _Blue snorted, _"it would already change the world."_

"_I say we should bring Miss Pink in as part of our project." _Yellow waggled his cowl, cutting off the impending brawl by mentioning their newest classmate's name. Elemental conjurations fizzled and winked out as the two turned their attention towards their fellow student. For his part, Red wondered since when had mentioning their newest classmate become a talisman for stopping brawls.

He hoped it wouldn't last, or they'd lose their edge at the end of year all-you-can-blast tournament. They were offering a lifetime supply of cheese for this years winner of the Battle Royale.

Yellow twirled the controls on his crystal ball, only for a column of hissing snow to erupt from the device as the anti-scrying wards of the rarely used female student dorms activated. _"She's got to have some interesting ideas that would be worth a lot of course credit." _The yellow garbed wizard finished once Red thawed him out of the impromptu snowbank.

There was a ponderous silence as the other three considered his words with great gravity.

For all two seconds, which was actually a lot for them.

Black shot a hand up. _"I'm all for it."_

Blue harrumphed, _"I'm not so sure about that. I'll admit she's getting quite proficient at defensive elemental combinations, but she lacks the same enthusiasm for magick that a go-getter really needs."_

"_You mean she hasn't shot Black yet." _Red countered from behind folded arms. _"Besides she's gone through a few of our classes already. She's ready enough."_

"_I don't think so." _Fingers waggled and spells took shape, but a quick dunking courtesy of Red put an end to Black's protest. Blue simply continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted. _"Even if she has figured it out already, she hasn't once used her magic to burn, zap or even freeze any one of those underachievers, much less fire crazy Black over there. And everyone wants to zap him once at least. What kind of mentality for wizard is that supposed to be?"_

"_Not a clue," _Red shrugged, _"But she's learning pretty fast for a newbie, that's a good talent."_

"_She's got a knack for surviving the practicals." _Yellow mumbled from behind his crystal ball as his fingers once again began tuning the controls running the device. Another one of those silent moments passed as they considered his words. Three for three, Pink hadn't been hit once in the free-for-alls, which was saying something in an event more commonly known for needing buckets and mops after it was over than survivors. _"Maybe Red's onto something here. One time's just luck, two's a coincidence, but three? Think she's one of those... you know, those once-in-a-couple-hundred-years kind of wizards?"_

"_What, a Support wizard? That's crazy talk. Everyone knows they died out ages ago." _Black brought a finger to his head and spun it around to emphasize how retrospect, he probably shouldn't have been playing around with the elements of water and cold at that point.

There was another one of those awkward silences before Blue broke the metaphorical ice with a shrug and the literal one with a tongue of flame. "_Eh, the way I hear it, the whole bunch of them ran away and founded Sanotopia."_

Now defrosted, Black kicked at one of the broken chunks of ice. The projectile flew out the window where a loud clonk was heard immediately after, followed by an angry yell. Moments later, there was the distinct crack of lightning, and even more yelling and spells going off. Black simply looked back at the three cowled stares and shrugged.

"_What's so special about Support wizards anyway?" _He said as the fighting seemed to trail off. _"They don't know a good fireball when they see it or something? Besides, no way she could be one. She doesn't have healing hands. And she fried Yellow once anyway."_

"_An accident."_

"_And then tossed him out the window. That sound like a Support wizard to you?"_

"_Totally an accident." _A trace of heat entered Yellow's defensive muttering, though instead of satisfying Black, it had the opposite effect. The wizard jumped up onto his feet, an accusing finger pointed like a sword.

"_You're crushing on her!" _He crowed, jerking back just in time to avoid a hasty swat of Yellow's staff. There was a hint of motion from underneath Red's cowl that might have been a raised eyebrow, mirrored by Blue.

"_I am not!"_ The offended wizard shouted, taking a few more ineffectual swipes at Black, "_It's just that she didn't train up properly like the rest of us, so I'm just a bit worried about her-"_

Black blocked the last hit with his own staff, his voice taking on a sly, sing song tone. "_You brought her sausages."_

"_Shut up!"_

Lightning sparked, Black's bones visibly sparking underneath the onslaught, but only long enough for the man to launch a water spray of his own... electrocuting the both of them until Yellow's attack ground to a halt. The two wizards stared at each other, sputtering wet and still sparking with bits of electricity between their digits.

Red actually managed to reach the count of three in the sudden silence before a fireball was launched, promptly setting Yellow on fire, and an answering beam of arcane energy was launched back.

"_So much for being professionals."_ he muttered to Blue, safe within his form fitting magical barrier,_ "Where do you think Pink really came from anyway?"_

His counterpart shrugged. "_Not a clue Red. It's not like our spells are all that fussy about wherever a summons come from. It must be a real weird place if they've never heard of magicks like we use though."_

There was a nod to that sentiment. "_Tell me about it. You should have been there in our first study session. She insisted that healing was done with water magic."_

Blue actually sputtered, incredulity in his voice when he finally managed to respond, throwing his words to the other two of the quartet. "_Ha ha! That's crazy talk... hey Black, here's some healing."_

The offer was so uncharacteristic, so unexpected, that both combatants, now in a struggle of mutual asphyxiation, turned their heads towards him.

Only to get a face full of roaring waterfall.

The spell swept both Black and Yellow off the floor, launching the two of them into the wall with a pair of meaty thuds. It continued for a little longer, and when Blue cut off the spell, the pair of wizards fell to the ground without rising.

"_Doesn't look like healing to me, Red." _He said with a shrug, ignoring the angry, disembodied yells of the newly deceased.

Red put a hand up to his cowl, resting his face in it before he went through the motions of a revive magick. But before Black could carry his revenge, he preempted the wizard with five words. "_Pink does healing that way."_

"_Yeaaar- eh?"_ Black actually skidded to a halt, nearly toppling over as he whipped about to stare incredulously at Red and then back again at Blue, but with suspicion. _"That didn't look like healing to me, Blue."_

Blue huffed, shaking his cowl wearily, "_Why don't you ask her then?"_

To his credit, Black seemed to pause and consider the question before snapping out, "_I think I will, and when she says you're wrong..."_

Black storming out in a rush following that particular outburst was expected, but when Yellow was quick to follow on his heels, Red felt a bit surprised. Maybe he was right about Yellow's crush? He put it out of mind with a shake of his head when Blue popped a different question.

"_She really thought healing was done with water magic?"_

"_Yeah." _He shrugged after some thought._ "Maybe the magic they teach in her place is different. Said that water magic was used to command the water in the body." _Blue snorted at the thought it conjured, but he continued on. _"She didn't know about wizards combining the spells with others either and was real surprised to find out about revive."_

"_What, that it was used on Black?"_ Blue waved a dismissive hand, _"If Magick could be wasted at all, I'd agree that it'd be a waste to use on him"_

In the interests of group cohesion, and scoring a passable course credit, Red disagreed. "_No, no, not that. She was surprised that we had revive at all. Like she'd never seen it before."_

"_No revive? Really? What kind of boring, backwards side of the rock did she come from?" _the derisive snort held more emotion in it than earlier, _"If that's the kind of place Support wizards run, then maybe that's why they're gone these days. Bored into extinction. Hey, you think she could be the last of her kind over there then?"_

Red shook his head. "_Probably not, she really wanted to go home so there's probably still a few of them left around."_

"_Can't be for long if they're this boring." _Blue barked out a laugh,_ "Can you imagine what it'd be like every time they had a world crisis? Oh noooo, the sky is falling, we're __**doooooomed.**__ Quick, let's go jump out the tower, or start a war with crazy powerful people, that will solve everything!"_

Red shared a chuckle with his colleague, deciding he had a point. If Miss Pink was typical of the wizards they had wherever she came from, they'd be definitely a few spells short of a full tome. _"I don't think it's that bad."_

"_Oh come on, no revive? I bet they're all crazy from just that."_

Well, he couldn't argue with that. You couldn't expect everyone to have magick and be sane, like they were.

* * *

Louise was starting to regret ever mentioning the Brimiric magical system here in Midgard, even in passing. Oh, she had always known that someone might have gotten curious about it and wanted to learn more. That had been fine with her. Even if she couldn't demonstrate it properly, as shameful as that was, she certainly knew more than enough about the theory to write a book or two.

That had been before she had learned how that curiosity would take shape.

It had begun innocently enough, with Black asking for a demonstration of it, healing magic in particular. Logically, she could understand the interest. Helkaginian healing magic required the element of water in its use and a comprehensive understanding of the human body, whereas those in Midgard dispensed with water magic entirely. For them, channeling the element of life itself was simpler, an all purpose curative that dispensed with the need for complex medical knowledge to do its work. And it worked exceedingly well from what she was able to see.

Logically then, though it was difficult to admit it, Midgardian healing magic was seemingly superior to that of the Helkaginia's. She had explained all that to him.

Logic however, had met its fiery doom in the cowled face of the black clad mage.

Because he still wanted his demonstration. And because he had a broken arm. Not that he particularly minded or cared about the injury, seeing how he broke it himself.

On purpose.

But because he just wanted her to demonstrate healing the 'way it was done in her homeland' and this was the most convenient way of seeing it at work. It didn't make sense to use healing magick when you weren't injured, right?

Peripherally, she was aware of Yellow hovering in the background, well out of range should there be an... accident she supposed. But his presence only occupied a tiny portion of her awareness as opposed to the current crop of insanity standing in front of her face. It was a sign of her slow adaptation to the trying circumstances of living in Alderheim that she only spent a few seconds in silent shock just staring at him.

Once she managed to gather her composure, she had told him in all seriousness that it would have required a water mage to heal him that way. That her affinity, oh how it shamed her to admit it, wasn't water... or anything familiar with home. She'd throw him a healing spell, the one Alderheim taught seeing how their magic always worked for her unlike those of the Brimiric system, and that would be the end of it.

She should have known better.

Really.

"Neeber!"

"Augh!" Louise recoiled from Black's dangling limb, the broken arm flopping about in a way that set her stomach to churning. "Don't thrust that thing in my face! It's- waitaminute," she lowered her hand, taking another look at Black's injury.

"Doesn't that hurt?" She asked, more out of disbelief than actual curiosity. While she wasn't a water mage, and had never trained in the healers craft, she wasn't entirely ignorant about some of the injuries a person could suffer and how much it could hurt. You didn't break an arm and just wave the thing around as if it were no more than a- than a _paper cut_.

"Ahum!"

Of course he wasn't the picture of perfect health. He had a broken arm didn't he? That's why he was waving it in her- oh Founder she could see _bone_.

She suddenly turned away, a hand to her mouth to keep from suddenly sicking up.

"Don't do that!" She managed to hoarsely command once the wave of nausea passed, "You're only going to hurt yourself even worse. Founder! Don't you even feel any pain at all?"

A round of silence answered her.

She didn't peek, she waited a little more, telling herself that maybe something had finally gotten into his skull, and her crazy study partner had gone away.

But then the silence stretched and curiosity eventually won the fight against disgust. She turned her eyes back.

The mage was scratching his head with the good arm, looking at her with an expression that could be considered quizzical despite the shadowed interior of his cowl making it hard to pick out any details.

"Ier... neeber rii larb?"

Of course it- wait, what?

Louise was a daughter of the Vallieres, a mighty family of high nobility and had been for generations. She had been taught the rules of etiquette and refined behaviour from as early as she could talk. How to hold one's self, how to walk and talk, the poise and dignity that was expected from anyone of her station were all strictures that had been deeply ingrained into her. Staring open mouthed was the act of an uncouth peasant, an ill-mannered commoner which she certainly was not.

She was just... about to... about to...

"Neeber rii larb?"

She closed her mouth with an audible click.

Then she closed her eyes, massaging the growing throbbing that was starting to form between her temples. It was better than succumbing to the other urge to just grab the black garbed mage by the shoulders and shake him while screaming 'what's wrong with you?'.

"Ier...yillm, neeber rii larb?"

She couldn't believe it. She _refused_ to believe it.

Maybe, just maybe Mr Black's question was because there was something wrong with him. An accident of nature that made him the way he was, a rare sickness or defect that made him the way he was. Even in Helkaginia, there were those in the nobility who had been cursed by illness or some malady of the mind. They were never spoken of in polite company, sequestered away from society by families who had the means and all but ignored. Maybe this was the rare exception, a noble family who cared nothing for what others said. Or maybe his... talent, was enough that they didn't care.

There was no way everyone here was like him. It just wasn't possible. It couldn't be...

Surely?

"Yellow..." she began, dreading the answer, "do you know what pain is?"

"Ier..." the mage raised a finger, "Nikker ree Magicka?"

She resisted the urge to bury her face in her palm. "No, it's-rrgh, it's not a spell, it's a feeling you get when you're hurt."

A shrug. "Neeber rii larb. Nikker ree"

Louise opened her mouth. Then closed it with an audible click. She raised a finger as if to enunciate a point... and was on the point on lowering it too when something struck her. "What about that time?" One part of her mind screamed against continuing. That she shouldn't antagonize mages who hurled death for any old excuse. But she couldn't help herself, couldn't stop. She had to know.

"Our first study session, when you caught fire. Didn't that hurt?"

The reply was immediate.

"Ahum. Nerim ner flun."

Of course it had hurt. He'd been on _fire._ There was no way it couldn't have hurt-

"Vimir nikker rahuum"

...because those were his best robes burning.

…

…...

Louise felt an eyebrow twitch.

"Neeber ree limir rahuum"

The other eyebrow twitched. And not because burn marks were hard to get out of mage robes. Not because those were apparently good robes.

"Rem neeber rahuum nikker ree."

And not because running around when on fire was simply what one _did_.

"Rabum"

It was **tradition**.

She looked first at Yellow, and then at Black. They looked back at her with blankly curious gazes. She felt her eyebrows hike up, slowly at first, but continually rising until they were seemingly flying away to the sky. Her lips curled ever so slightly, revealing a row of gleaming teeth. A very faint thought suggested that the sort of expression on her face was inappropriate, that proper young ladies, particularly those of noble breeding, did not smile that way.

But it was a friendly smile, one on the verge of an epiphany. Black and Yellow were so earnest with her, almost like friends really. So it was only right that she gave them an appropriate reply. Friendly friendly friendly.

Of course they didn't fear death. Why fear death when it's just a temporary obstacle? Of course they were careless with their magic. When you could undo the damage so easily, what was a little slip up? Of course they didn't feel pain. Because... because... oh she didn't know why. It wasn't important anyway. They didn't feel pain just because! That was why they blasted each other. That was why they fought. That was why they laughed about it. And laughed.

A giggle escaped through her lips, high and manic.

It all made sense now, oh ho ho ho. It made perfect, itty, bitty sense that stitched together this ridiculous world into a patchwork piece of insanity. Just like a broken crystal vase. Tiny little shards of sense that made the whole, with a hundred thousand little reflections all in between. Look at them, standing there with broken limbs and even more broken minds, full of cries made from nonsensical words that still somehow made sense. Their sausages that exploded into fiery conflagrations! Why did they keep offering them to her? And... and... and he was doing it! Right now! A blasted sausage being thrust at her face alongside his broken limb like some kind of bizarre sacrament.

She felt a hic jump in her chest as she batted the foodstuff away. What was _wrong _with them anyway? But there wasn't anything wrong with them at all. It was the world. Yes. No. It made sense. It didn't. Because she wasn't in just another land, ho ho ho ho ho. She was dead. She'd failed so hard, she'd exploded her _sanity_. This was punishment for her failures. She was in a coma. No, this was _hell_. She'd been sent here for the impossible task of putting things to sense. And, and she was babbling and she didn't care because it didn't matter. It didn't matter to these mages. Not being hurt, not being attacked. Not dying. It didn't matter.

Because nothing actually mattered to them_._

Another giggle, strained as it was high burst through her lips. This time, it sounded like a cry to her ears.

"Ier... neeber?"

She snapped her gaze to the student mage, staring him down with a wide grin and manic eyes.

"You wanted to see my healing magic, didn't you?" she said, thickly sweet honey dripping from her words. Her fingers twitched, as if reaching for the old wand that she always kept strapped to her wrist.

The black clad mage responded with a nod, his posture expectant, eager one could almost say.

"Just a demonstration?" She asked again, even as something in her screamed that she shouldn't be doing this. That even if they didn't mind, it was wrong, the known outcome unforgivable. But the voice was weak, her tenuous grip on sanity already crumbling. All the rules of life she had learned. The duties of nobility, of courtesy and decency. Of cherished humanity. It didn't matter. All of them were like illusions in this mad place where everything was _wrong_. In a world where nothing held true, nothing mattered.

And when nothing mattered_... everything was permitted._

Something clicked inside her then. Or broke. It was hard to tell.

Everything.

Permitted.

The dissenting voice stilled, leaving nothing but silence.

And the simple awareness of this mad, insane world.

Ever so slowly, she lifted the stave, pointing it at the patiently waiting Black.

It would have been so easy do what was proper, to draw upon the life element of Alderheim magic and cast a healing spell. She could feel it just underneath her fingertips, waiting for the slightest twitch to call it forth. But she had learned Brimir's magic all her life, its intricacies burned into her mind through years of practice, even the taste of repeated failure were there, older, stronger. Just aching for release. She focused her willpower, letting it flow into the familiar pathways even as the necessary arias came to mind, dancing on the tip of her tongue.

She smiled, a wide friendly expression that dripped honey and sugar as something deep and dark swam up from the depths of consciousness to take hold.

"Here you go then."

And chanted the aria of healing.

* * *

"_And you said she was a support wizard."_

"_Oh shut up."_

* * *

It was like waking from sleep.

Only without the bed, for she was on her feet, and her eyes had never been closed to begin with. Instead, they stung in the heavy air as the acrid odour of smoke and something else assaulted her nose.

Smoke?

She blinked, inhaling reflexively before doubling over as she coughed out small puffs of soot stained air. Why was there smoke? It hung heavy in the air, the smell of sulfur and soot in that familiar scent of failure. The mark that accompanied failed spells that were her signature before she had come here. But there was something else as well in the air, an iron stink that made her belly lurch uncomfortably. It was a stench she was acutely familiar with, if only because of the past few days she had spent in this place.

Something dripped.

The sound of liquid, wet and thick, striking cloth. Striking cobblestone.

Her face a sticky mess.

She palmed at it, stared in confusion at the brilliant crimson coating it.

Something gathered, fattened, dripped off her nose, falling towards the messy hand. Its color was lost to eyes that looked, but didn't see. Her eyes flitted away to the walls. But normality skittered away, drowned beneath a charming crimson pattern. From rafters where flamboyant bee patterned banners lie, thick red syrup stinking like a smithy sheeted down upon her. Like honey, she thinks, falling upon a careless bee as she.

She never even realizes the grand pathological twitching afflicting her eye.

Uneven surfaces, unidentifiable lumps no larger than a smoked sausage. The stomach churning aroma of cooked pork clawed at the back of her throat.

There, outlines where the spray is thickest, corpse art in themes of horror and violence. Memory flashes. Remembrance. Awareness that strikes a hammer blow to her fragile psyche. Her mouth opens, to retch, to scream, to deny everything. Nothing. Nothing but rapidly short breaths.

The silence lies thick, suffocating, and not even the monotone dripping of congealing blood can break-

"_Ier... nikker vi rez?"_

She blinks.

"_Neeber!"_

"Auuuuugh!"

And just like that, the silence breaks.

She runs, runs like all the devils and demons of hell are after her, slippered feet slapping across the cobblestone in her mad dash to elsewhere. Anywhere but here. Away from where the voices are.

"_Areeber! Ni vi Rez!"_

But the voices give chase.

"Ahhhhhh!"

"_Nikker ree larb neeb"_

Oh Founder. They want her brains.

Terror takes over, instinct and the simple drive to survive, to get away from the horrors that are chasing her and want to feast on her braaaaaains. Logic shuts down, reason jumps out the window and rationality is trampled to death in the mad rush. Elemental magicks stream into her awareness faster than she's ever done before, things she's never tried. Arcane energies spark off her fingers. Lightning crackles. Microscopic planetoids orbit her wake. She takes them, everything and anything she can.

And throws them behind her.

_My brains!_

Fireballs detonate against walls, lightning streaks down the hallway, casting the castle in stark hues of black and white. Crystalline globes of magical energy manifest, collapsing into the ground where they hum with deadly energy. A door opens behind her, disgorging a brown robed figure.

"What..."

She keeps running, just as something clicks.

She doesn't hear the shout of surprise, the ear splitting crack of coruscating magical energies behind her, the rapidly dwindling shriek of terror.

"_Neeber rez!"_

She only hears the voices in her head.

"_Ier... nikker rez?"_

Voices that now have additional company.

Never stopping in spinning her spells, she runs even faster.

The hallways fly before her mad dash, doors barely slowing as she ploughs through them with reckless abandon. So focused on her flight, she doesn't even hear the music before her, or the sounds of revelry and merry making until she tumbles down the stairs and through the doors to the dining hall.

"Supprende!"

"_Ahum! Nikker reem **cheese**. Neeber rez!"_

There's a sharp pop, a hail of brightly coloured strips of paper and expectant faces. Faces in cowls, magic twirling in hands with colours and sounds that would have gotten a coo of surprise and wonder from her.

Had she been in a better state of mind.

All she sees are the ghosts of vengeful wizards. All she hears is life seeking magic, their desire for her brains... and for odd reason, cheese. Her reaction is instant, flight or fight reflexes honed by all out brawls known as magical practice. The mage before her disappears, blasted away by a column of water with the force of a cannon shot and into a group of mages.

Staves come out. Shouts of excitement and anger fill the air. Magic sparks, sizzles and roars. Crimson energy lances out towards her madly dashing form. It strikes... and bounces off a shimmering golden aura. Behind her, something explodes into a crimson spray of gore and blood. A fireball lances through the air just as she ducks, the roaring projectile smashing into a band of musicians. Lively horn music is replaced by screaming. A drum explodes. A storm of chaos and deadly magic begins to form. More spells, more shouts follow her.

"_Auu... nikker reem neeber cheese."_

And ever more Voices clawing in her skull. She screams, magick roaring across her hands in as the elements swirl in ways they were never meant to, her desperation throwing anything, everything. Old magic and new alike clash, threatening to tear apart in a cataclysmic detonation of wild magic. And then, they harmonize.

A too pale faced man, clad in the black robes of a senior instructor steps through an open door, his pinched face marked with displeasure as he blocks her way. She comes to a screeching halt, but the spell is not so easily stopped.

"What is the _meaning-"_

Is all the words he can get out before a blot of darkness manifests itself beneath him. A tiny thing no larger than a finger, no threat. But every fiber in her body screams as she launches herself backwards, running back the way she came. Even if she doesn't understand, her body does. The blot grows rapidly, faster than the blink of an eye as a maelstrom of energy roars outwards, sucking everything towards it. The instructor falls into the pit of darkness, body shrinking and dwindling into the darkness, his last words trailing in the air.

"-offffff_ thiiisssssssss!"_

The maw grows even larger. Space twists. Time stretches.

Spells curve, fireballs veer off target, the air howls towards the tear in the world as mages snatch onto fixtures, trying to hold on against the pull. Few manage to hold on. People vanish into the purple rimmed darkness, stretching to impossibly long shapes before fading away as they pass the event horizon. Her frenzied run slows as her feet find difficulty making purchase on suddenly frictionless stone.

The darkness flickers, wobbles, magic destabilizing as incompatible elements finally have their say... and explodes.

She dives out through a different door, just as a blast of heat and sound roars overhead, the force of the detonation picking her up and launching her through the air. She screams as the floor comes up, flailing her arms as if to fly. Reflexes or not, barriers of magic or not, she still ends up sliding across the cobblestone hard enough to leave skid marks. Carpet gives, fabric burning in her passage. Furniture gives, frail wood shattering as she smashes through them, splinters bouncing off her protective barriers. The hearty stone walls of the University... do not give.

She hits them face first with all the grace of a legless, wingless bird.

"Ooowww."

* * *

"_Still think she lacks the go-getter attitude?"_

"_I take it back. I take everything back."_

* * *

Carnage greeted them wherever they looked.

Mangled bodies, burned corpses, bits of flesh that might have once belonged to a crop of first year students. Blood and scorch marks patterned the hallway in a random polka dot fashion. Scraps of cloth that used to be part of a wizard's garb. Abandoned staves, sturdier than their wielders, lay discarded on the ground, dripping with assorted viscera. Fires burned out of control, consuming corpses and buntings with equal greed and filling the halls with thick oily smoke. Unexploded crystal mines, their colours belying arcane contents that would freeze and launch their victims into the sky, lay everywhere.

It was the aftermath of a war, terrible and merciless in its raw power and bloodlust that had stripped life from the very walls.

Just another Monday in Alderheim.

A distant click and detonation would sound, the fading cry of yet another inadvertent astronaut reverberating through the halls.

Or maybe Tuesday.

"_Think it was Black who started it?"_

Blue snorted at the ridiculous suggestion as he gingerly stepped around another ring of arcane ice mines, poking at an unidentifiable lump with his stave.

"_That guy? We would have found his body ages ago. And he hasn't yelled at us for a rez yet. We haven't seen Yellow either, come to think of it."_

"_One of the first years?"_

The wizard stopped, thinking about it for a moment before clearing the way to the dining hall with a well placed arcane beam. Rippling explosions filled the air as the haphazardly strewn globes burst, their energies expended harmlessly against the air. He shook his head, opening the door before them.

"_Nah, those guys never figure out the proper use of mines. I'm betting-"_

Blue's running commentary came to an sudden halt as he took in the sight before them.

It wasn't the fact that the grand dining hall was a complete wreck that had him come to a stop. That was just business as usual. Oh, the scorch marks were still there, practically covering the entire room in a layer of soot actually. The fireball spell that must have been quite large, but nothing particularly special. And certainly there was nothing new about the assorted wizard corpses strewn about like discarded peanut shells, even if there were a lot more of them than usual. The mess was nothing to write home about in fact, seeing how it was practically indistinguishable from a common battlefield, or a weekend beer party.

Up above, a red and white striped banner burned merrily.

Definitely a weekend beer party.

What really stood out however, was the equal number of wizardly staves to go with identifiable corpses.

Red let out a low whistle of appreciation.

It was common wisdom that when wizards disagreed, there would always be more magic staffs than recognizable bodies, seeing how they were made of much sturdier stuff. There was even a cottage industry amongst the more... cautious of wizards to hang back and scoop up fallen loot for their own use. For them to be destroyed in the ensuing fight would have meant mighty magick at hand.

Or a many limbed, light fingered thief...

"_Definitely not Yellow." _Red said authoritatively after a moment's thought, remembering that the University mascot had gone on a vacation. Besides, Beholdy wasn't the sort. _"He'd have taken the best loot like ooh, this."_ he put his words to action, tossing aside his practice stave for a discarded gem topped war staff.

On the other side of the battlefield, Blue was poking at a particularly scorched part of the hall. He raised his cowl as if to say something when a familiar voice interrupted them.

"_Hey guys, can I get a rez?" _

Red turned his head towards the direction of the disembodied voice, _"Yellow? Did you start this? And where's Black?"_

"_Uh uh, not me guys. Believe it or not, Pink did. Black went after her."_

"_Pink did this? Really? Wait, you mean after all this, Black's still intact?" _Blue made a disgusted sound. _"That just proves the world's an unfair place."_

Red simply snickered, turning his attentions to the remnants of the party. It was surprising really, how you could turn a place into a charnel house and still have a few blocks of pristine cheese and oooh, pinoet wine.

"_Uh... not really. He got gibbed too. He was kind of bugging her to demonstrate how healing was done in her place."_

"_So she blew him up?" _Blue snorted. _"How come she hasn't rezzed you guys yet if that's the case?"_

"_Not a clue. She just kind of ran when we asked her for one. She got Vlad too though. Man was he really surprised."_

"_Whoah whoah, back up." _Blue goggled as Red choked on a goblet of spiced wine. _"She got Vlad? Not-A-Vampire Vlad? Really? I thought the guy couldn't be killed. Grimnir knows I've tried."_

"_Don't really know myself." _came the unconcerned reply._ "She used a magick I've not seen before. You can ask her yourself about the details. Now, about that rez..."_

One revive spell, a minor case of arcane ice mines, some leftover burning buntings, one lava spewing mini volcano immediately after, yet another revive following a tripped mine and the reunited trio of intrepid wizards had found their quarry.

"_Hey what about me?"_

It was decided that Black not be revived... at least for a little while.

"Ooogh."

"_Err..." _Yellow looked at his colleagues in confusion before settling on Red. _"Maybe it's poison?" _

Blue shook his head, _"No no, I've heard of this before. Wizards don't get it much, but it looks like a case of excessive conk cuss one. It's strange though. There's the conk since her face is in the wall and there's a dent on it. But where's the cursing?"_

"Rruuugh," the immobile prone form of Pink answered, her face still buried in the stonework. Her fingers twitched.

Red palmed his face, calling up a healing spell at the same time. He could put two and two together without coming up with five. Between the skid marks and the scorching behind her, he could more or less figure out how all this had happened.

It probably involved Black being an annoyance to someone.

Business as usual.

* * *

Consciousness returned to Louise slowly, her few thoughts incoherent and fuzzy as her eyes drifted open.

"Adeeber?"

"Augh!"

Louise scrabbled away from the shadowed face, slamming her back against the wall, mind wide awake. Very awake.

"Ier..."

Three of them. She recognized the cowls, the staves in their hands. The colours of their hoods, familiar hues. Her fellow mages. Friends.

...right?

"Wh-what happened?" The words were a slurred mess, and she tried to stand up, only for a wave of dizziness to pass over her. Helping hands caught her before she fell, putting her upright as she looked at the impassive face of Blue.

And then she remembered. The tiresome request of Black. The revelations. All the pain and fear she had felt coming to a boil, what little sense she had evaporating like so much mist... and the spells she had used. Familiar spells, magic that any of Brimirs chosen could use except her. Stronger somehow, more volatile than what her memory could recall. Spells that had...

"Reeber nur durm."

People were dead.

"Vahuum."

Lots of people.

She flinched, guilt seizing her body. She wanted to look away, cover her eyes and demand that they get it over with. But she couldn't do it, couldn't block the flashes of memory that filtered into her mind. She couldn't even call it an accident anymore. So many spells. So much destruction.

Because of her.

Blue reached out. She didn't struggle. She-

"Vareeber hum nee!"

… had done well?

The outstretched hand had become a thumbs up.

"Nikker magicka frum."

Louise felt her jaw drop. She was a... real mage now? For all that destruction, all that... killing ? This, this was wrong! She tried to say as much, argue that he was being stupid, but the only thing that came out was unintelligible sputters. Her eyes darted to Red, and then to... Yellow. All of them were nodding their heads.

"Nur durm Vlad" Red added. "Varreemer nikker vahim."

Despite the impossibility of it all, Louise felt her jaw drop even further. In her patchwork memories of the last few minutes, she remembered the man with the too pale face and black robes. But she had never connected it to the name until now. And... Vlad was worth extra points?

"Ahum!" The crimson clad mage nodded, waving his hands excitedly, "Areem feer neeber magicka."

… honor student material? Louise very nearly collapsed to her knees, would have if not for the fact that Yellow was still holding her upright. They considered killing instructors to be honor student material? She had thought she'd come to terms with their mad philosophies, their cavalier attitudes to death. But not this. A shudder ran through her. To advance, the student had to kill the master? The thought left her aghast.

...but it wasn't permanent, was it?

"Naruum," Blue added, raising a finger as he spoke up, "Varreemer nikker vahim magicka."

Louise could only stare confusedly at her fellow mage, her jumbled thoughts getting even more disordered at his revelation. Her new magic? What new...

Oh.

She averted her eyes guiltily. They must have known she had done it on purpose. But Blue wasn't having any of that, putting his hands on her shoulders and giving her a rough shake.

"Fregna!" The mage said excitedly. "Nikker skyn!"

Louise blinked.

"You..." She managed once he had stopped shaking her. "You want me to teach you? _That _magic?"

Blue nodded so hard, she was afraid his head would come off.

"Healing magic?"

"Ni!" A shake of the head as his hands bunched together. "Nirim magicka bamf!"

"But all my spells ex... oh." she trailed off as two and two finally came together.

"Ier..." Red interrupted, clearing his throat pointedly as he did so. With a start, Louise realized that her discarded stave was back in her hands, though she had no recollection of picking it up. "Nareem nikker skyn neeber, flur..."

Her heart skipped a beat as the mage folded his arms, looking all the world like a disappointed teacher, ready to dole out punishment. He wanted her magic too, but first-

"... neeber rez"

-she'd have to start reviving everyone.

"_Ahum," _came a familiar, ghostly voice in her ear.

Finally.

* * *

"_I think she'll be a good addition to the team, don't you?"_

"_Ehh, needs a stronger stomach if she's going to puke like that from cleaning up."_

* * *

**A/N:** A tiny bit more serious in some parts than the previous chapter, but it's not all sunshine and crack everywhere when Magick's involved you know. Besides, as far as she's concerned, she's still logical and reasonable... mostly... for now. As an adaptive human being however, she'll get used to it... eventually.


	3. Chapter 03

**Disclaimer: What would a Magicka version of "I don't own this" look like anyway? It'd probably involve ARSE mines somewhere I bet.**

* * *

**Making Magick 03**

**Friendship is Friendly Fire**

Letters, Louise had discovered, were soothing.

_Dear Mother,_

_Though it has only been a few days since my last letter, I worry that any single correspondence may be insufficient to encompass what I have learned in that short a time period. _

They let her pretend things would be fine. Mundane. Normal.

_My understanding of the Alderheim magical principles grows daily, and each time I find myself amazed at this potential that the local mages take for granted. In some ways it is much simpler than our own particular form of magic to shape and form, while achieving the same effects of a more complex spell. But it is with their healing magic in particular, is where this is most apparent._

Normal, normal, normal.

_Though I am not particularly well versed in the theories of magical restoration, even I know that magical reagents are often required for the healing of more grievous wounds and diseases. Yet the Alderheim understanding of healing magic is such that the need for reagents are completely sidestepped for any malady or wound, no matter the seriousness and at no apparent lack in effectiveness._

Not that repeatedly perverting the natural order of life and death _**just to clean up her messes **_was anything but normal. But given everything that had happened thus far, it counted as normal. Sort of. If she squinted.

_It feels a little odd to write this, but the healing magic practiced here may be even superior to that available at the Tristain Academy, if not all of Tristain. I know it may be far too early for me to say for certain, but having witnessed and participated in the practice of this magic, I carry the small hope that upon my return, Big Sister Cattelya's condition may be properly cured with what I have learned._

And besides, this sort of thing had a really good silver lining and it wasn't a lie so it had to be normal, so there!

_I do believe however, that the plentiful access to such effective restorative techniques has either contributed to, or was developed as a response to the..._

And just like that, the normality vanished. Louise sighed as she stared at the letter, as if her gaze could erase the she'd line just written with sheer glare power. It didn't. She kept writing anyway.

_...enthusiasm the other student mages have for the practice of magic. In part I feel, this is due to the much greater emphasis here on the learning of magical arts, particularly those of use towards the martial disciplines, than any other subject one would normally expect in a similar place of refined learning. The faculty, on the other hand, permit such enthusiasm, especially during the practicals. I surmise it is for the purpose of building practical skills in the most effective fashion as many of my fellow students are very very skilled indeed._

As long as one didn't include a sense of self preservation in the criteria anyway.

_Which brings me to my next point I suppose._

_I have been awarded the title of Top Stave, a mark of considerable accomplishment amongst the student body I am given to understand…though I must hasten to admit gaining the title was through most unconventional means, at least by the standards we are familiar with in Tristain. Only two days before, through my ignorance of local customs, I had inadvertently challenged one of the senior instructors to, as was later explained to me, to something of an informal duel. _

She paused. That... wasn't really a lie. She was just tidying up her recollection of the events, yes that was it.

_Which against all odds, I had won with no permanent harm done to either party._

_As the Alderheim University placed greater importance of its students practical abilities than purely theoretical understanding, well, I am certain you can understand what happened next. Not that it's changed very much of course, though admittedly some of the other students are paying further attention to me than is strictly comfortable..._

Which was to say, they more often than not shot at her first during magical practice.

_...I have been on the whole, quite capable of handling them. _

_Your faithful daughter,_

_Louise_

* * *

"A-neeeber!"

She was Louise Francoise de la Valliere, a noble of the highest breeding, second only to royalty.

"Neberroo?"

She was the daughter of the Duchess Karin Desiree, a famed mage knight who had made her mark in history with peerless blade and spellwork.

"Oyaree!"

Her stock was the finest that any noble could ask for, her entire life dedicated to the ideals of unflinching discipline and magical mastery espoused by her lady mother.

"Ahumneer!"

So she was not hiding. No no no. Not hiding at all. Not from a quartet of mages, who were arguably as powerful in their alien, albeit no less powerful, magical arts as they were insane. It wasn't that she feared them, oh no, not at... well, maybe just a little bit. And not because she didn't have any magic, because that was categorically not true. Her magic was every bit as bloodily and messily potent as theirs, so there!

"Aha!..."

Louise very nearly bit her tongue as her eyes squeezed shut.

"...awww."

The same control that held her tongue now kept her mouth shut to prevent the sigh of reli- tiredness! Tired. Yes. Her trembling was simply a sign of exhaustion from a long day, that was all there was to it. She was Louise de la Valliere, proud daughter of the famous Heavy Wind, and an accomplished mage in her own right. There was no way she would be cowering inside a musty old wooden crate like a common criminal to avoid the notice of a bunch of overly energetic mages with a penchant for destruction. And she would surely not be peeking out from the cracks to try and catch a warning glimpse of her hypothetical pursuers.

"Nrrr... rikka durka magicka?"

Certainly not.

Why if any such mage should wish her ill and try to chase her down, she would face them with magic of her own. She had grown stronger than she had ever been in the Academy. Lightning and fire came at a thought, the elements of water and earth danced to her whims. Once she had even discovered the means of making the skies rain fireballs. Why, she had even breached the barriers of life and death! Granted, so did every other one of her classmates, but it was still a feat without compare back home. And she had yet to discover the limits of her powers. A zero no more, she was a force to be reckoned with! She wouldn't ever shy away from another mage with ill-

"Nekker!"

Louise hunched lower as bright orange light filled the room, leaving behind the smell of smoke and the crackle of flames.

"Adeeber!"

Lightning flashed in reply, a stray bolt blasting her crate into kindling. Despite her best efforts, and the barrier of protective magicks she now habitually maintained, a tiny little 'eep' escaped her mouth as the deadly shrapnel splintered off her personal shield.

"Dee.."

She jerked backwards, falling on her rump and scrabbling back in the hopes of finding concealment before it was too-

"Aha!"

-late. As the smoke cleared, she felt her heart race, her fingers tightening despite the little voice in her head screaming that it would be alright. That nothing bad was going to happen. They were merely concerned fellow students, and she knew each and every one of them after all, better than she had known most of her classmates in the Tristain Academy. Study partners. Classmates. Friends even.

Really.

Four hooded faces looked at her, each robe dyed a unique colour. Each one carrying magical staves of their own. United in only one purpose.

The yellow hooded one raised a hand in her direction, intent clear.

"Neeberree!"

She was brave. She told herself. Composed as only a noble should be. Dignity and poise were drilled into her from the moment she could first walk. Decorum ruled when she was not pushed too far. There was no way she would resort to base violence, magical or not, as a first resort like a commoner thug. Not over something like this.

"Onarbe nikker flum."

Not over being taken to classes.

"Orabe neeber ree num darbu. Vadeeber narrum dur bar?"

Especially since she was the top student. Someone of her status couldn't be seen to shirking now, could she? What would the other students think? So of course she had to attend all the classes.

"Dukker rukker neber Magicka."

Even magical practice.

"Ahum!"

Right?

The stave in her hand had no opinion on that.

* * *

"_Why does she keep skipping classes?"_

"_Eh, she's doing well enough to be teaching them I say"_

"_But she doesn't have a beard."_

"_Idiot, that's only for the headmaster's position."_

"_What'd you call me?!"_

* * *

The Alderheim University was an old, old structure, certainly older than any currently living wizard could remember. Not even the _wise_ and_ handsome_ Vlad, who was most certainly not a vampire, was able to shed light on the matter. Which was a little disturbing to someone of his er... distinguished years. Some of the cleverer wizards claimed that the structure had been crafted not by mortal hands, but by the Creator Titans themselves, standing the test of time from when the world took form.

Which could have been just yesterday, since no one was really sure what happened once everything turned dark. Some said that the world ended then, made anew every time things became bright again. Others claimed that the world was taken apart, placed away in magical stasis for when the Titans minions turned their attention to the universe once more. Whatever the truth, it was still old enough to have quite the layer of dust in its less frequented rooms, such as the one used to store rarely used items, like books on the responsible uses of magic, wizardly etiquette, and amulets of silence for limiting destructive behaviour.

And of course, the most rare of catalysts, common sense.

It was one such room that a particularly soot stained figure stumbled into, slamming the door behind her and raising a cloud of choking dust.

Said figure sneezed, glaring menacingly at the detritus something amounting to personal affront. Unfortunately, oh so dry dust flitting about the air and openly glaring eyes tended to go together like glue.

Glue that stung.

Louise made some very unladylike sounds as she pawed at her burning eyes. A few abortive attempts later, she gave up the effort, conjuring a column of water before dropping it on her head, washing away the dust and also soaking her to the bone.

Free of both dust and soot, but now dripping wet, she shivered as a chill began to settle on her. Discarding her stave, she rubbed her arms, slumping down on a nearby crate and feeling thoroughly miserable. Cold, wet, hiding from other people's eyes. It was like being a criminal she thought bitterly. But at least criminals didn't have to worry about being killed in any number of imaginative ways... and then being brought back again to die at some later date. And not because of their crimes-

And... and... she wasn't a criminal either. It was self defense, that was all! No trial in Tristain would find fault with her, much less the completely blaise attitudes that every one of her Midgard peers seemed to take towards death and dismemberment, no matter how temporary. On top of that, she was indisputably one of the most skilled magic users as she understood things. She hadn't di- di- suffered any real mishap ever since she had started practicing their magical arts. By the Alderheim University standards, that made her practically an honor student. On top of that, everyone had seemed very impressed by her 'failures' with Helkaginian magic, to the point where many had tried to emulate it. By all rights the other students should have been in awe of her.

So why did she have to hide in this dusty little storage room, hoping no one found her and throwing deadly spells about when they did? The much abused and battered voice of reason suggested that maybe it was because they expected her to have the same attitudes as theirs. Namely, a complete disregard for her the lives of anyone and everyone, including her own. And a penchant for exchanging greetings with words as often as it was said with fireballs or some other destructive magic. That if she didn't throw the first spell, someone else would, honor student or not. Or maybe especially because she was an honor student.

She pounded a fist ineffectually against the wooden box. It wasn't fair.

She sneezed.

And now she was going to come down with a cold too. Probably catch her death with it. Louise of the zero deaths, finally done in by the common cold. It was a ridiculous thought, but compared to everything else she had experienced since coming here, it was boringly dull.

A brief solution suggested itself at that moment in a spark of intuition. A solution based on the observed successes that the other mages had achieved in the quest to stay dry. It lasted all of a moment before she seized the treacherous thought and squashed it with as much force as she could muster. But on the other hand-

"N-no!" She hissed between clenched teeth. "I won't do that! It's stupid and insane!"

Getting off the crate, she began pacing around the room with renewed energy. It was this place. This everything! It was as if this entire university and all its wizards had been created by some sick mind. The insanity was like a disease, slowly eating away at her rationality and mind in a way that no healing magic could cure. The fact that she was even considering one of their solutions to being wet... she gave her head a ferocious shake.

"They're all insane! What kind of stupid idiot sets themselves on fire to warm up?!"

But she was cold. And it would make the cold go away-

With a sound of barely restrained fury, Louise slapped both hands over her ears and resorted to the surest method she had learned of banishing the creeping insanity. A method that had involved no small amount of personal grief in discovering it, but one guaranteed to at least provide some degree of relief.

Namely, introducing her forehead to the nearest hard surface.

"Owwww."

* * *

In the depths of liquid darkness, a mind slumbered in dreams devoid of all content.

For an unimaginable time, it had slept, hidden away from the world in the cocoon of infinite oblivion. Never waiting, never planning, the unknowable intelligence dwelling in the darkness simply existed in a state of perpetual non-being.

_thud_

Until the first of ripples arrived, disturbing the darkness enveloping the mind, stirring it to brief wakefulness.

What? A discordant, questing proto-thought bubbled beyond the boundaries. It flickered, a brief flame of awareness, only to be subsumed by the soothing void, quenching all further interest...

_thud_

Until the second ripple arrived. Stronger, more insistent.

The mind stirred, the darkness retreating as the first of emotions began to filter into being.

_**thud**_

A third ripple. Strong enough to jolt the no longer slumbering being.

_**THUD**_

A fourth. Stirring thoughts began to coalesce into reasoning, intent and purpose.

To make the noise stop.

* * *

The price of sanity in a land of madness, as Louise was starting to find out, was pain.

Lots of it.

But pain was good. Or at least that was what she told herself. The other mages, they said they didn't feel pain, didn't even know what that was. And when you added the fact that they couldn't really die, not forever at least... well she'd never realized the truth of it before. Pain, for at least those who could feel it, was nature's way of saying you shouldn't be doing something foolish. Like hitting your head against a hard surface.

Hence, pain, her increasing familiarity with it and the subsequent spots in her vision.

"_Ahhhh! Stop it!"_

The shouting however... that was new.

Louise blinked as the much maligned crate she had been using as a sanity inducer began agitatedly rocking back and forth. A month ago, she would have continued staring at the bizarre spectacle before her. Two weeks ago, she would have started considering running away from the impending disaster. Today, her stave was in her hand almost instantly, a double stacked water spell already weaving about its tip. The crate was much too small to hold one of her classmates, but she wasn't about to take her-

The crate burst apart in a shower of splinters as Louise shrieked and fired off her spell, sending out a high speed jet of water.

"_Who dares disturb- ackrrrrggble !" _

Motes of glittering light sparked off the stream as something small and shiny hit the wall with a faint thud.

Breathing heavily, Louise cut off the spell, peering incredulously at the object that slowly peeled itself off the wall, only to flutter to the ground like a piece of paper and landing with a wet splat. To her shocked eyes, it resembled nothing more than a tiny, if somewhat sparkly, winged person, a female from her figure. But even with her limited knowledge of the other magical races, she was quite certain that the creature in front of her was not a baby winged person. Especially since her crumpled wings were a colourful gossamer rather than feathers, putting Louise in mind of a butterfly. She was also very, very still. Louise was about to consider the possibility that she might have killed the poor thing when it suddenly bolted upright, snapping wings out as it raised a tiny little fist into the air.

"_Revenge! Vina will have mighty vengeance! _It proclaimed, vigorously shaking the fist at the ceiling, shedding glittering dust all the while.

"Uhm..." Louise hesitantly spoke up, the bizarre sight having damped her budding self preservatory response of magic first, questions later.

Drawn by her voice, the creature took one look at her, _"Who dares- ack!" _and instantly recoiled, "_Wizard!"_

There had been times since her arrival here where the young Valliere had felt like clawing her way through the walls because the doors weren't close enough, but she had never actually tried. The tiny little winged being was certainly giving her all however, when she wasn't shooting frantic looks back at Louise.

Louise could only stare in confusion at the miserable creature as it continued to scrabble at the walls.

_"No no no! Not Vina! Wizard should find other 1up."_ She babbled as her hands finally slowed down, clearly exhausted from the futile efforts at escape. _"Vina is... defective, yes! No 1up. No retry! Find other replacement. Pretend never saw Vina at all, yes?"_ She looked at Louise with tears in her eyes.

"One... what?" Her brow creased as a dull throbbing began to start behind her forehead as the litany of protests continued. One up? Retry? What? The creature's babbling was mostly gibberish to her, though at least some of the nuance seemed understandable, if disturbing. Clearly this... whatever Vina was, were being used for some purpose in the Academy, one that they didn't appreciate. Poor thing.

"Calm down, I have no intention of hurting you or anything like that. I wasn't looking for you in the first place." She protested, raising her hands in a placating gesture.

_"Not hurting?"_ The winged being scrunched her face up in confusion._ "What is not hurting? How can you be Wizard and not causing hurt?"_

"I'm not like those other wizards!' She burst out in annoyance. "I know how to be responsible with my magic!"

Well... most of the time.

Alright, some of the time.

When she wasn't being pushed over the edge.

Which was admittedly very difficult under the circumstances.

And it wasn't like they didn't deserve it either. So really, she was being responsible with it. She didn't throw about magic for no reason.

_"Not like other wizards? But have bathrobe, magic wand even! You are trying to- wait,"_ The tiny creature hesitated, sniffing at the air. _"You are wizard. Why do you do not have smell?"_

"Hey! I bathe regularly. I do **not** smell!" Louise burst out angrily, waving her stave for emphasis.

_"Yeep!"_ The creature leaped back,_ "No no. Wizard not having wizard smell at all. All wizard have certain smell. But Vina cannot find smell on you. Unless..."_ She mused aloud, the fear visibly leaking away from her until she finally snapped her fingers in revelation. _"You are fraud! Not real wizard at all!"_

That stung. It wasn't quite the same as being called a zero, but it stung all the same. But this time, unlike all those other cases when those accusations had been flung into her face, she had a much better comeback.

"I am NOT a fraud!" She ground out, her back ramrod straight as she let just a bit of magic flow. It was completely effortless now, with not even the miniscule drain on her willpower she had experienced when she had first started. A pair of crackling lightning spheres burst into life, lazily orbiting her staff as she held it out towards the winged creature. "I am a proper mage in every sense of the word. I will not not have something I've just met, no matter what you are, accuse me of being a fraud."

The winged creature threw out both her hands in a panic._ "Yeeeep! No magic! No disintegrate! No disintegrate Vina! Not say you have no magic,"_ it frantically explained as Louise pointed her stave aside, temporarily mollified,_ "but wizard more than magic. You do not have smell of underworld. Smell is important, is part of being a wizard."_

"...underworld...?" Louise demanded, her thoughts turning towards conclusions that were both frightening and heretical. "Do you mean to say that wizards gain their magic from some kind of... from dealings with demons?"

_"What?"_ The creature blinked._ "No no no. Is not demon pact at all. Wizards is wizards, always have magic from start. Creator Titans say so. But wizards die dozens of time on first day too. Smell of the underworld after come back. like pine air freshener and floor polish."_

All of Louise's thoughts came to a screeching halt.

"What."

It shrugged, _"Wizards die many ways, but always messy. Stinky too. Hear Death has a special waiting room for them."_

"What."

Vina crinkled her nose.

_"Always have to clean up afterwards."_

Louise stared. She stared until it felt like her eyes would pop out of her sockets. And then she stared some more because she couldn't possibly think of anything else to do. Eventually, she sat down.

"What."

It took a few moments longer before she could finally muster her much tattered defenses to the insanity she'd been told.

"No."

Denial.

"No no no no no. No way! It can't possibly be true. The afterlife couldn't possibly be that... that stupid!" Shaking her head so hard it gave her a headache, she stabbed an accusatory finger at the creature, "You're just making fun of me you you you- whatever you are!"

_"Is truth."_ The creature exclaimed. _"Vina also not Whatever!"_

Or rather, squeaked, though Louise imagined it was thunderous for someone of such small stature.

_"Vina is elemental spirit of alcohol and memory loss!"_ The creature exclaimed... only to trail off as a perplexed expression took place of the former indignation. _"Wait, maybe memory thing is because of alcohol."_ A diminutive finger tapped its cheek._ "Vina is not sure. Should have drink just to check."_

Louise could only stare open mouthed, her annoyance evaporating in the face of sheer confoundment. Apparently no longer concerned with her, the creature lazily drifted off towards the remains of the crate it had been hiding inside. Only after it had vanished into the wooden container did her mind finally catch up.

"Wait, what do you mean you're a spirit?" She sputtered, incredulity overriding caution as she walked over to the broken crate to peer inside.

"You can't be a- gack!" Was as far as she got before running head first into a thick cloud of alcoholic vapour.

Eyes watered shut, her nose practically on fire, Louise fell back with a gag. Both hands frantically fanned away the fumes as she tried to suck some air back into her lungs.

"Founder above," she sputtered, almost certain that every hair on her body was rigidly straight. She wasn't completely inexperienced when it came to drink. There had been that goblet of celebratory wine once, when she had been accepted into the Tristain academy. But if spirits were magic, that goblet would have been a mere dot rank compared to the square ranked cloud of debilitation rising from the crate.

Still sputtering, she addressed the edge of the box. "What in the name of all that is sacred are you doing in there?"

"_Remembering," _Vina's voice came from rang out from the container, a happy sing-song lilt to it. _"Or forgetting. Vina thinks maybe it can be both. Should drink some more." _

Louise buried her face in her palms as the so-called spirit continued to ramble on. The first not so insane being she had come across ever since she had been brought to this land, and it was apparently a hopeless lush drowning everything out with strong liquor... which actually made some sense now that she thought about it. But that didn't mean she was going to run away from her problems like that, oh no. A Valliere faced her dilemmas head on!

"_But what about magical practice?" _That treacherously guilty part of her conscience asked.

"_That didn't count!" _She shot back.

"_It was running away." _

"_It was self preservation!" _And it was true. She was very quick with a spell these days, but one too many near hits with fireballs and energy beams had taught her the value of conflict avoidance. The train of thought would have continued at that point, but something the supposed spirit said caught her attention.

"Wait," She blurted out, "what was that you just said?"

There was the sound of sloshing as a tiny hand appeared at the edge of the crate, Vani's sodden head soon following a moment later. _"Vina say drink is making memory little funny. Not seen you before, but memory says you are familiar to Vina," _She slurred, a silly grin on her face with the air around her practically shimmering from the alcoholic fumes rolling off her body._"Like wizard from long ago who didn't die too. Vina thinks his name was Rimmir, or something like that. "_

"What do you mean didn't die too?" She frowned, her curiosity piqued. "Surely there's more to it than just not dying."

There had to be some other mages here who hadn't succumbed to this insane cycle of death and revival as well, weren't there? Some of the students... well, maybe the teachers...

The headmaster! Even if he was almost certainly senile, she was equally certain the headmaster hadn't been killed, or taken part any part of the violent insanity infecting the university mages. He didn't even have a staff now that she thought about it.

_"Maybe. Maybe."_ The creature agreed with a drunken grin._ "Rimmir was not like normal wizard either. Had special kind of magic, but not from Midgard Vina thinks. Maybe Rimmir not from Midgard at all. Vina does not remember exactly, was long ago. Vina has seen many many wizards since then."_

"What? What kind of special-"

And that was as far as she got when the storeroom door burst inwards, disgorging a quartet of very familiar mages.

"Ahum!"

* * *

Vina had lived for long time. Maybe. Not easy to say if time was long when world always went back to storeroom when stupid wizards become exploded, burned, crushed, frozen, or lightning-ed.

Always happened. Probably because wizards forget what happens when everything becomes dark. Wizard look at fine normal magic, and think it need to set something on fire. Blast things that is fine for no reason except to break them. Put shield on one side. Put arcane mine on the other. Later push someone on top. Sometimes enemies. Sometimes step on mine themselves. And then always forget what comes before when all are alive again.

Vina was not like others. Vina remembered. That was not good thing.

Drinking helped Vina forget many things, but not important thing.

Wizards not good for Vina. Wizard take Vina, get 1up, and then get exploded because wizard very good at throwing magic, but not so good at avoiding it. Then Vina get exploded too so that wizard can get up again. Vina remembered all of that. Was not fun at all.

Drink or no drink, if wizards arrive by breaking door now, Vina should be leaving yesterday. But wizards were here now and blocking only escape route. That was also not good thing.

Luckily Vina can think very quick in little time. Was useful skill. Helped avoid exploding death many many times. If cannot avoid wizard, then pick one with not so heavy smell. Maybe get lucky, live longer and not explode so soon.

…

Maybe should not have drunk so much just now. Now everything smell like spirits. Maybe is time to change smell, use eyes instead to smell.

Red wizard? Alcohol.

Blue? Disinfectant.

Yellow? Whiskey.

Black? Extra strong turpentine. Yuck.

Maybe eyes not so good after all too.

But wait. Maybe Vina not need to smell? Pink wizard different already. Pink wizard not have smell at all Vina remembered. Not died at all then, not even once. Was real wizard then?

Vina not sure. Pink wizard had magic, had staff, but no smell. But maybe better to take chance. Other wizards probably all die many many times. Maybe Pink is smart wizard for once. Maybe wizard and Vina avoid exploding for long, long time. Maybe all will be different this time.

Maybe can even outsmart other wizards.

Maybe. Maybe.

Vina had yet to see wizard who can outsmart Death, but still should try.

Better than other choices.

* * *

There was a time in Louise's life, when faced with sudden and uninvited mage guests bursting through the door, she would have reacted with proper yet decorous outrage that befitted her upbringing as a noble. A sharply worded retort, a disdainful look, these were the weapons expected of the noblesse in polite circles to express their displeasure.

Of course that time was about a month ago when she had still been in Helkaginia. She had new lessons since then, new instructions in the customs of Midgardian mage etiquette and the socially acceptable form of responding to such uninvited guests. Specifically, the proper response being to grab her stave and make with the magic as fast as one could decently cast.

Preferably with fireballs first.

Of course that etiquette was a bit at a loss when it came to guests who might be counted as friends whom she didn't want to hurt. Especially since Midgardian mage etiquette saw nothing wrong with a little fireballing between friends. Expected it even. Except, well...

They'd brought sausages.

"Ahum!"

Louise alternated her attention between the expectant gazes of her co-students and the string of processed meat being held out towards her like some kind of warding talisman. She opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it when absolutely no words would come out.

Sausages, she had learned, were something of a prized comestible amongst the Midgardian mages. Many of the robed students jealously hoarded the cuts of meat, protectively brooding over them at mealtimes like dragons. Magic was thrown about to gain control of the largest pile, and fights to the death had broken out as students battled to guard their hoard. What they saw in the somewhat greasy and very possibly hallucinogenic foodstuff, she hadn't forgotten what happened the last time she had tried one, was beyond her.

After all, she had made it a point to never take them again after that blank spot in her memory immediately following her first try. But her Midgardian peers certainly would fight to the death for them. Admittedly, they also seemed to fight over any imaginable reason under the sun, but they seemed to do so with more vigour when sausages were on the line.

Louise wasn't very sure about this, as she had wisely learned to take her meals in her room with the doors locked and barred after her first experience in the dining hall.

So presumably the act of giving sausages to a fellow mage was some kind of peace or friendship offering, much like Yellow had tried to do before.

It was crude, simplistic and... charming in a fashion, she supposed. And she didn't really want to fling spells at the only student mages who were possibly her first real friends, for a given value of friendship. It was still better than how her peers treated her back home. Well, no one back home had ever thrown lightning, fireballs and a dozen other deadly spells her way in half that many days, but it wasn't done out of spite and a desire to belittle her. They'd come close to setting her on fire once or twice, but it was always cheerful in their own made way. They never did out of malice so that made it... actually, no, that didn't make it much better.

On the other hand, these same mages were also far more likely to drag her back to that death ground known as magical practice and she really, really didn't want to go back. Revival magic being a two element spell or not, Louise had yet to embrace the carefree attitudes to mortality her peers had, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Ever so slowly, her fingers crept towards her stave. Not because she wanted to of course. She wasn't going to be like the rest of them, tossing fireballs about at the slightest reason. She was just being cautious, yes, that was it. Just a little-

That thought never completed itself as something small, bright and sparkly darted from out of nowhere to hover just in front of her nose and touched it. And then the world was sparks and lightning and _ohsweetBrimirthe__**pain!**_

The last thing she heard before consciousness fled was a tinny confused voice.

_"Vina think maybe that not supposed to happen."_

* * *

It was a common peasant belief that to be an Alderheim wizard was to know magick. To be fully aware of the awesome power that formed the fabric of the world, and shape it however they wished. It was also wrong. Principally because all Wizards seemed to use magick for was blowing things up, and not more desirable spells, such as summoning a plate of sausages.

What wizards did know very well however, was the various ways in which a body could end up dead. Because to be a wizard was to be burned, drowned, smashed, shattered, zapped, blasted and of course blown into meaty chunks for someone's amusement, not necessarily in that order and certainly not only once. If it had been hit by magic of some sort, was on the ground, wasn't moving, and more importantly, was making lots of noise in the afterlife about being rezzed, it had to be dead. No self respecting wizard would accept death as an impediment to speech after all.

And right now, the gently steaming body on the floor seemed to qualify for at least two out of three of those attributes.

"_Well, that was kind of disappointing."_

Red shook his head as he regarded what had, until then, been the best candidate slated to win this year's championship title by dint of not getting dead even after a couple of classes in practical magic. It was a little odd that she wasn't yelling about being resurrected yet, but he put it down to simple lack. Support mages, he still hadn't dismissed Yellow's theory, probably hadn't figured out how to manifest as an observer ghost yet. Or maybe still filling out the Dead Forms if this was really the first time she'd gotten herself killed.

Oh well, he thought philosophically, it was for the best that this was over and done with anyway. Even the really good fouled up sometimes. But still, he had been expecting the lucky shot, when it came, to be something else other than this.

"_Done in by a fairy," _Blue grunted sourly, the swirling magic of a revival spell waiting on his stave, _"How's that even possible?"_

Red shrugged, the fairy in question hovering uncertainly over the unmoving form of Pink. Catching his look, the fairy turned and shrugged. She didn't know either.

Before he could say anything else though, the third of the quartet suddenly threw up his hands._ "Hah!"_ Black shouted exultantly, narrowly dodging a reflexive arcane beam from blue. _"The first years are going to owe me so much gold!"_

Yellow shot the black robed mage a sour look, a spell taking shape around his stave, _"you bet against her? I ought to-" _he stopped suddenly, the magic winking out, _"wait, you bet on a __**fairy **__against her?" _

There was a nonchalant shrug, _"Had to happen, right? And the payout was really, really good."_

"_But, but... a fairy!" _Yellow spluttered, turning his attention to towards the fairy like Red had, _"how?"_

Like before, the winged creature shrugged,_ "Vina not know. Vina picked Pink wizard like normal so should be awake, not on floor and smell like burning cat."_

"_They laughed at me when I made that bet," _Black continued as if the fairy wasn't speaking, hand on hips and the other holding aloft his stave, _"said I was crazy they did. But who's crazy now? I'll be richer than all of them ahaha, ahahahahAHAHAHAHAarblble!"_

Red sighed, letting the flow of water magic cut off from his stave. Just another of Black's schemes. What good was gold anyway? It wasn't like they had any pockets to put it in. Maybe Pink's habit of keeping an active shield element around her had backfired or something. They'd figure it out once they rezzed her... actually, waitaminute.

"_If you picked Pink," _He asked the fairy. "_how come you're still around and not imploded like you're supposed to be?" _

"_Maybe she's defective!" _Black sputtered from somewhere inside a steam cloud before she could answer, the wizard having dried himself the traditional way.

"_You're the one who's defective." _Blue snorted derisively as he waggled his staff. Just in time too, as a beam of arcane power from Black bounced off his shields... only to hit Yellow.

Red took a few quick steps out of the room before wiping the subsequent viscera off his face. _"Fellas."_

Lightning bolts flashed by, missing his face by inches. Red took a page from Pink's book and raised a shield before settling against the wall and patiently waited for things to blow over. It wasn't ideal, he preferred to zap some sense into the two, but it had to be done. Somebody had to be the designated survivor in debates like this after all. Vlad was starting to issue demerits if the professor was the one who had to clean up outside of magical practice. Strangely enough, he had only started doing that after Pink had managed to kill him that one time with that funny magic of hers. Speaking of which-

A loud but familiar groan interrupted his thoughts.

Red started, turned, poked his head through the open door and gaped. No fireball to the face, which was good. But the still steaming corpse of Pink was starting to sit up. And he knew it was a corpse because a wizard who didn't get up after being knocked down with lightning was pretty dead if nobody had cast a revive spell, and the fairy was still hovering above Pink's head, gesticulating wildly. Wizards also didn't have glowing yellow eyes shining like bright lights from under the shadows their hats cast. Except maybe the really evil wizards, and he didn't peg Pink as the type. Not to mention that nobody rezzed the evil wizards anyway, since they tended to steal all the cheese.

"_Zombie!" _Black yelled, summing up everyone's conclusions with a word. The wizard swept his staff towards Zombie Pink, unleashing a torrent of healing magic at her.

In the normal course of events, that should have been that. Healing magic and undead didn't get along really well er... theoretically. Theoretically, because instead of keeling over from the healing magic, Zombie Pink did the exact opposite.

"Wha-!" the pink haired mage shouted as the beam of magic struck dead on. Instead of falling apart like a proper undead, she recoiled from the magic, flailing her arms as she did so. "What the- oh!" To their surprise, she stood up despite the healing magic pouring at her, brushing at her robes as if it were no bother at all. "You can stop that now, I'm fine, really!"

The beam of magic stopped as Black gaped and exchanged a look with the surviving trio. That wasn't how zombies were supposed to go. Yes, they spoke, but it tended to be about brains and food. Not telling people to stop shooting at them. Red personally had his doubts, but the only undead sort of being who did that kind of thing was a-

"_Vampire!" _

"What?!"

And just like that the magic started flying again with Black launching a fireball at Pink.

In a really small room.

Which smelled like a distillery.

Luckily Red was already well shielded by the corner so all he had to do was pull his head back and wait for the blast to subside.

"_Noooooo!" _the human torch that was Black howled, waving his hands in the air as he raced out of the room, _"not again!"_

Red briefly considered putting his fellow wizard out of his misery when a beam of arcane magick shooting out of the door beat him to it. Said crimson beam also beat up Black quite thoroughly. Which is to say, he exploded.

It was a good thing, the crimson clad wizard decided as he brushed off a particularly large chunk of Black, that his robes made the blood really hard to see. Of course, there was still the problem of Pink becoming a vampire. Or something along those lines. He hefted his staff, put on a quick ward against most elemental energies, stepped through the door-

**WHACK**

And promptly received a staff to the face.

Pink strode through the door, eyes glowing a bright yellow from underneath her hat, a fairy hovering confusedly above her head and the shimmering field of a shield spell around her. She also had her staff out. Responding like any other sensible wizard, Red brought up his own staff, a pulse of unformed magic ready to push her back.

"I," She jabbed him in the stomach with her staff before he could release the spell. The same raw magic he'd been intending to use punted him back into the castle wall. "am NOT!"

Lightning crackled as she jammed the staff in his face, the elemental orbs swirling around them.

"A _VAMPIRE!" _She practically screamed in his face, "is that clear?!"

Red pondered that declaration for a moment, sorting through all the facts he'd learned over the past few days. Not a wizard like the rest of them since she had that funny magic of hers along with their usual stuff. Obviously not a support wizard now since she was getting really good at slinging spells like the rest of them. Couldn't be killed, a kind of pale pallor that stood out even underneath the shadows of her hat, did he mention that she couldn't be killed? Well that was because nobody had been able to get a proper hit on her but that probably amounted to the same thing. And then there was that declaration... of course! He made a noise of understanding, lifting his non-staff hand and raised a finger.

"_Like Vlad?"_

* * *

"_So... not like Vlad."_

"_Well who's going to rez us now?"_

"_Pink I guess?"_

"_As ghouls?"_

_"In your case Black, that'd be an improvement."_

_"WHY YOU!"_

* * *

Louise panted, lowering the stave in her hand as the red haze in her head went away. She felt... different, lighter somehow ever since she'd woken up. The university robes she'd been given were a bit heavier and a little more cumbersome to move around in compared to her Tristain Academy uniform, but now it was as if she could sprint endlessly in them. Not that the thought of doing something so unladylike crossed her mind of course. And the stave in her hand, a good pound or two of enchanted wood, didn't seem to weigh anything more than a feather.

She wondered, briefly, if she should have been worried over the fact that she was paying more attention to this unexpected sense of fortitude than the gently smoking body of Red in front of her. Or the chunky red stain on the ground a few steps behind. Or the somewhat blasted room even further back, its contents reduced to ashes and charred kindling. Even if the last wasn't her doing, it was something that normal people, noble or not, should be worried about, shouldn't it?

'_Oyaree, neeber rez!' _The spectral voice of Black called out in her ear.

On the other hand, normal people didn't get to listen to the voices of the recently slain in her head, calling for their resurrection in the same cavalier manner as one would ask a colleague to pass a book. The young Valliere had once marvelled at the revelation of the nature of those voices, once it had been explained to her. Midgardian mages were so saturated in magic that their spirits persisted even if their bodies were destroyed. The implications had been staggering, her faith shaken to its very core at such a fantastical impossibility and all it implied...

'_Rez!'_

...until she reconciled the phenomena with what they actually did with it. Louise folded her arms, feeling particularly self conscious as she addressed an empty patch of wall. "Do you promise not to throw any spells at me if I do?"

'_Errrr... rikker kanskje ja?'_

A maybe.

Louise very nearly gave in to the impulse to raise Black from the dead right there and then, just so she could fireball him. She refrained only from the knowledge that not only would it do no real good, he might even _like it_.

She sighed. No, no she shouldn't be worried about the way her current priorities were set. Not one bit. It's not like they, or anyone else in this mad university, cared all that much about being blasted, exploded or any other hundred and one ways to die. And while she might care about her well-being like any other sensible person, Brimir forbid if they would extend her that courtesy! Put against that kind of vexation, placing her curiosity above their admittedly temporary predicament, in her opinion, was more than justified.

Well... maybe. Red hadn't actually deserved that, but she'd been really stressed out. Besides, he hadn't tried to stop the rest of them so he was just as much at fault anyway.

Satisfied with her reasoning, she crossed her arms. "No revivals." She dictated firmly, "not one resurrection for any of you until you promise to stop shooting at me!"

No reply came save for very faint scratching that might have been whispers, but even that dwindled away to silence. Maybe they were talking it out where she couldn't hear, however that worked for ghosts. Maybe they were looking for someone else who didn't mind getting blasted to revive them. Founder, for all she knew, they could have had found something shiny to distract them. At this point, it was very hard to care which was the case, as long as they took their insanity with them.

Louise sighed, rubbing her at forehead with a tired hand. The limb was halfway up to her head when she suddenly stopped, sharply turning the hand around so that its back was to her. She blinked.

Softly glowing with faint yellow light, a pair of unfamiliar markings hovered just above the skin of her hand. Markings, she was sure, hadn't been there this morning. In fact, now that she looked closely at it, they seemed to resemble-

_"Uh oh. That not supposed to happen."_

Louise snapped her head upwards to find a familiar form hovering just above her. She hadn't really expected the self proclaimed elemental spirit of alcohol and memory loss to be still around, assuming she had survived the conflagration that Black had touched off. That was doubly so since she just remembered what Vina had done to her... well she wasn't sure exactly what had transpired, but it had _hurt. _In her shoes, well wings she amended after noting to the barefoot nature of the winged being, she would have been halfway across the world by now.

The incongruity of the situation worked through the complex and nuanced set of mage etiquette that had been drilled into her from birth, then later fired at her from wand point in the Alderheim University.

Spells first, explanations later.

"You!"

_"Me?"_ Vina chirped, her eyes wide with innocence. But before Louise deliver some righteous retribution, the diminutive person clapped one hand over her mouth. _"Oh! Right!"_

… and promptly pulled out a sheet of parchment from behind her back that was larger than she was.

As Louise boggled at the impossibility, the tiny winged being took the opportunity to put on an equally tiny pair of glasses, took a deep breath and began reading from the scroll in a voice not entirely her own.

_"**Congratulations on your selection for the FairyCo personal lifeguard contract. The key to any successful cooperative adventure is cheating death. And as our data clearly shows, fellow wizards cannot be trusted to revive you promptly. Because more often than not, they're dead too, so that rules that out. The solution: Fairies! Then put those fairies into an eternal cycle of death, disintegration and spell dodging. Then run those fairies through a regimen of numbing exercises. And then putting that numbness to the test. Data shows Fairies give wizards six extra seconds of survival. **_

_**As a proud recipient of FairyCo's personal lifeguard contract, you don't have to make the long trek back from the underworld only to be immediately sent back by careless mine placement or environmental hazards. FairyCo's personal lifeguard Fairy will retrieve your recently deceased soul and stuff you back in a functional body at the cost of her life and eternal banishment to the recycle bin until you reach a patented FairyCo Stone Ring. FairyCo, sacrificing our own so you may last a few seconds longer**. No warranty provided. Service is provided as is. Side effects may include mutation, taste for brain matter, missing limbs, a personal lack of regard for safety, glittering and rashes."_

As the stream of words finally came to a halt, Vina looked at Louise with a nervously expectant face.

She blinked, all thoughts of justified vengeance having been flattened by the sheer incomprehensibility of what Vina had just said. She struggled for a few seconds, trying but failing to form anything responding a coherent thought. The stalemate was eventually broken when the winged being fluttered down to eye height, waving a hand in front of her.

_"Maybe Pink wizard is broken?"_

Snapping from her bewilderment, she made a grab for Vina. The winged being darted back a pace with a meep, but went no further, still staring at her with the same nervous expression when Louise didn't move to pursue. For a very long moment, the youngest daughter of the Valliere family stared back at the fluttering creature before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to clear away the growing pounding in her head.

"What."

_"What is what?"_

"What was that you just said?" She pressed on, even as her instincts screamed against it. Don't think about it, they said, don't dig too deep. She was already mired up to her neck in the insanity, a little more would bury her forever.

_"Er... maybe pink wizard is broken?"_

"No!" She snapped angrily, self preservation and annoyance temporarily allying to suggest that she blast increasingly annoying nuisance before she could do any more damage to her sanity. She wrestled them down, but only just. Vina possibly knew something. And she couldn't very well get it out of her with a fireball. "That... that thing you said just now, about FairyCo, whatever that is! And this!" She thrust out her branded hand, "did you have anything to do with this?"

_"No no. That not Vina's fault at all,"_ The... fairy exclaimed as she fluttered in for a closer look. "_That not supposed to happen when wizard get contract. Wizard get 1up, not tattoo,"_ Vina went on hurriedly as thunder clouds gathered on Louise's face. _"Fairy Godmother run Big Fairy Company. Jobs for Fairies. 1ups for Wizards. Vina is now lifeguard for Pink Wizard."_

"What."

Despite her size and the distance, Louise had no trouble seeing Vina's head tilt in puzzlement as she continued._ "Vina just explained. 1up. Retry. Vina substitute for Pink Wizard when she explode."_ She paused before continuing with a sour expression. _"Also for when wizard burned, drowned, smashed, shattered, zapped and blasted."_

Seeing Louise's aghast expression, Vina added.

_"Fairy Godmother very thorough."_

* * *

_"When is she going to get to reviving us?"_

"_Shut up, I'm listening to them talking about this godmother."_

"_Is it like the guy with a fish fetish?"_

"_What?"_

"_I heard him talking about making people sleep with them."_

"_... congratulations. We're already dead, but you're still capable of killing my brain with your mouth."_

* * *

"So if I understand you correctly," Louise spoke the words slowly to Vina once the explanations had wound down, almost certain that she was still dreaming, "you made a... contract with me."

_"Is correct."_

"And in that contract, if something were to happen to me."

_"Only when Pink Wizard reach zero health. Is in FairyCo rules of conduct,"_ The winged creature corrected her.

She massaged her aching temples, "You would then... revive me."

_"One time only."_

"And die in the process." She said flatly, feeling more than a little uncomfortable at the concept. She was starting to get used to the idea of bringing someone back from the dead with a spell. But she'd never thought of herself as the one being revived, since she intended to stay alive until she had finally escaped this madhouse and long past that, or that it would be at the cost of someone else's life. Big sister Cattelya had many books with stories of similar sacrifices, stories she had read as a guilty pleasure in her younger years. But those were sacrifices of love or duty, not something that sounded so... commercial.

_"Vina can only disintegrate once."_ Vina said with a shudder, _"But if Pink Wizard can find a fairy circle, then Vina will come back."_

"Oh." Well, that made it better. Now it was only back to the Midgardian standards that she was familiar with. That was to say, stark raving mad. But there were some things in the fairy's story that didn't fit even by those standards.

"If you were willing to give me this contract, why did you try to persuade me to find another one in the first place." She demanded. "I never asked for this."

_"Is contract obligation"_ came the answer with a resigned shrug, _"fairy is found, wizard gets 1up."_

"But why me? Why not one of the other-" She stopped as she suddenly remembered where current state of the other mages, and who exactly had put them there. She chastised herself for so easily forgetting. Of course they wouldn't be viable candidates if they weren't around anymore. Oddly enough, not one of the quartet had spoken up since she'd laid out her ultimatum, which was somehow both relieving and worrying. Relief, that she wouldn't have to put up with their inane chatter for a while. Worry over what they were up to.

Death, she'd had the lesson drummed into her in these past few days, was no barrier to their insanity. Sometimes it was the opposite in fact. Speaking of which, "Not to say that I don't appreciate the gesture but..." she trailed off uncertainly, not quite sure how to carry on. How do you refuse someone magically bound, as she understood it, to trade their life for yours in a very literal sense without being crass about it?

_"Pink wizard not smell like underworld, so Vina think maybe Pink wizard is clever. Not die so many times like others. Maybe not die at all,"_ she added,_ "also, Vina would prefer if Pink Wizard stay like that all the time. Disintegration is not good for Vina."_

"I think that goes without saying," She muttered dryly, wanting to feel revulsion and disgust at this revelation, but unable to summon the energy. The worst part of it was, Vina's choice made perfectly logical sense. If the fairy absolutely had to exchange her life for someone else's, why not pick someone who at least cared about not dying? That still left the question of why she'd have such an obligation in the first place, but Louise didn't dare pursue that line of thought any further for fear of her dwindling sanity. Far better to take up an equally important, and potentially less sanity draining, line of inquiry.

"Alright, I can accept about that you've somehow bound yourself to me, but what about this," she raised her hand, the one with the mark, "It wasn't there before, and now it is. You can't expect me to believe that it's not connected."

The tiny winged figure tilted her head quizzically._ "Maybe. Is fairy writing, but that not supposed to happen at all. First time Vina has seen wizard get magic tattoo even. Maybe is because Pink Wizard never died before?"_

"How should I know? I've never done any of this before" Inwardly, Louise marveled at how calm her voice sounded. She'd suspected, but this was getting too close for it to stay mere suspicion. A magical pact, and now a supposedly magical brand in the fairy tongue? That sounded far too familiar for her liking, even if Vina insisted that it was a freak accident. Not to mention how different she'd felt once she'd woken up. Lighter, faster, stronger somehow. But it couldn't be, it just couldn't.

With everything she'd seen so far, Despite everything she'd known about what was right and true being turned upside down over the last few days, the fates couldn't have been so cruel as to play this joke on her. "If this is fairy writing, that means you can read it. What does it say?"

_"Does not say very much."_ The fairy bobbed around in the air as if to emphasize her point. _"This one is rune for Id and that one for Kfa."_ She pointed at both squiggles respectively.

"Id Kefaa?" Louise frowned as she tried to make sense of the two words. That didn't sound like any kind of runic symbol she'd both feared and expected. In fact, they sounded like gibberish. But if what Vina said was truthful, and she was still of two minds about that, well who knew what idiosyncrasies existed in a language made by inhuman beings? "What's that supposed to mean? In a human language."

_"Not easy to say, is difficult to translate,"_ the tiny being replied with another bob, _"but Vina thinks closest translation maybe angry doom."_

For a very long moment, Louise just stared.

An eyebrow twitched.

* * *

_"Nooooo! Vina not mocking you! Is what runes say! Vina alive! No disintegrate Vina, no disintegrate Vina!"_

"Stop whining! It's just a little fireball!"

_"Noooooooooo!"_

* * *

Several near misses later, despite her best efforts, Louise found herself calm enough for civil discussion. "So..."

_"Meep!"_

Mostly civil from her side she thought ruefully as the fairy quivered behind an archway. _'And who's fault is that?'_ A particular treacherous thought whispered. Louise ignored it.

"Oh stop that. I'm not angry anymore."

It wasn't strictly true, but she wasn't angry, not very much anyway. The... runes were still on her hand, just barely visible against her skin now that they weren't glowing anymore. If she didn't look for it, she could almost pretend that they weren't there. Or that they were just meaningless gibberish caused by some kind of magical misfire, something she was sure had happened. The alternative... she didn't want to consider the alternative. And if that were so, then she could just try to get rid of these stupid runes with no further consequence as soon as she figured out how. Preferably without mutilating herself.

_"Vina not know."_ The fairy said when she spoke that aloud, poking her head out cautiously from behind the archway._ "Wizard never have fairy tattoo before. Vina thinks maybe is bug fault. Probably not important."_

"What does insects have anything to do with-" Louise began to demand when she cut herself off with a sharp shake, "no, don't tell me. I don't want to know." Already her imagination was conjuring up images of creepy insects crawling around, biting and wearing away at the fundamental laws of magic. Her only consolation was that in all likelihood, her imagination would be tamer than whatever the fairy had to say. It almost made dealing with the colour quartet better by comparison.

"What am I going to do with you?" She muttered, though it was mostly for her own benefit. She hadn't the faintest idea of how to deal with this. On one hand, this was sort of like having a familiar of her own, the one thing she'd set out to accomplish mere days-

'_Though it felt more like years'_

-ago. She'd pinned all her hopes and dreams on that event, so the idea of having a clearly magical, sapient being of a hitherto unknown species bound to her should have had her pinwheeling through the halls. Not that she was the sort of person who would do such a crass thing of course. But on the other hand, she'd placed a lot of importance on the event specifically because it would prove that she was a real mage, and not a failure. That had been then. If learning how to make fire rain down from the skies and reverse the natural order of life and death, both of which she had practice with of late, didn't make one a mage, then a familiar wouldn't have accounted for much.

But on the stressed, angrily twitching limb driven to the utmost bounds of patience, her pseudo familiar was-

_"Vina think maybe..."_ Vina broke her line of thought tentatively while manhandling a large glass bottle filled with an oily liquid, _"go on adventure?"_

"What"

_"Adventure? Or maybe is called quest? Vina thinks they same thing."_ There was a tiny shrug as it chugged from the bottle, somehow managing not to drown despite the contents surely massing more than the fairy did, _"Is what wizards do when have fairy."_

Louise felt her brow twitch, but she forced it down before it could manifest. This was starting to sound like a two copper bards tale. A bad one. "What makes you think I have any intention of going on a... quest?"

_"Vina not know. Vina is fairy, not walkthrough."_

* * *

The large oaken gates to the interior of Alderheim university boomed shut with a thundering finality. Not quite so loudly, there was the faint sort of click one might have associated with locks being turned and bolts being drawn across.

Louise blinked. For a brief moment, she took stock of her worldly possessions. Her original wand, Midgardian magic stave, her near unconsciously maintained shield barrier, whatever else she'd managed to have in her pockets; a sausage from Brimir knows where, a few of her notes, some ink and... the hat. Broad brimmed, conical with a bent tip, it shaded her eyes from the somewhat bright sun. Oh, and there was also the fairy, floating a few inches above her head. She gave said fairy her flattest stare possible.

"What."

It was a moot question. She could recall, quite accurately, what had happened. Vlad had found both her and Vina shortly after...

Well she knew at least one thing for certain. She wasn't allergic to that glittery dust Vina occasionally shed while flying around like certain definitely-not-a-vampire teachers were.

In any case, instead of reprimands, there had been some explanations, of a sort. About how being selected by a fairy was a rare and important honor, an act of destiny that sounded almost as important as the familiar summoning ceremony was, and that great things lay before such a person. That Vlad had such a thing in mind immediately after, he assured her, was purely coincidental. It all sounded so... reasonable at the time. And she'd followed along, because there had been a promise of a way home once she was done. But for the life of her, she couldn't find any sort of reason to it now. Or sense.

Like why she was supposed to save someone else's kingdom, or more importantly, why send just her when there were a surfeit of more powerful, if no less sane mages on call. She had magic to be certain, but If it was something so bad as Vlad had tried to intimate, wouldn't sending more mages be fitting? And didn't this kingdom have it's own standing army? It was insanity.

_"Vina told you. Is Quest."_

An impulse flared within her to blast the fairy with some magic, but she clamped down on it with as much control as she could muster. It wasn't entirely the fairy's fault, she tried to remind herself. It wasn't as if Vina had saddled her with all this. Now if it had been Vlad, well, there was certainly someone who'd get a richly deserved blasting the next time she saw him.

"And where do you think," she hissed between gritted teeth, "am I going to find this capital?" So much for control. "I've yet to see a single map of this kingdom and in case you hadn't noticed, I'm not from around here. What am I supposed to do? Go down a road at random and hope it leads to the capital?"

_"Vina think Pink Wizard worry too much. Road will go where quest needs wizard."_ Another fairy sized bottle appeared in Vina's hands, which she proffered in Louise's direction. _"Maybe Pink Wizard drink, relax?"_

Wrinkling her nose at the overwhelming aroma of alcohol, Louise waved it away with a gag. She suspected that the fumes alone would be enough to make her fall over if she breathed it for too long. Not that getting drunk and oblivious to everything around her didn't have its merits. Very briefly, she considered asking the fairy just where in the Founder's name was she pulling out those bottles from. But then her sense of mental self preservation rose up and strangled that impulse down with warnings of cosmic magic twisting bugs. Especially if she wasn't going to drink herself into oblivious amnesia afterwards.

The fairy took the refusal in stride, upending the bottle and chugging down the contents. Louise started to stare as Vina consumed more liquid than her body could possibly hold, but then closed her eyes and looked away. If she couldn't see it, she could pretend it wasn't happening.

_"Vina think Pink Wizard look on bright side. No other wizards, so Pink Wizard not need Vina too much?"_

Meaning, she had a lower chance of getting herself killed, she thought sourly. But as she considered the words, Louise perked up slightly. Yes, she was still on some Brimir damned mission to fight against a goblin army of some kind, but she was going it alone. There wouldn't be any other wizards, at least she hoped so. She wouldn't have to worry about poorly aimed fireballs, lightning spells going off when someone had made it rain, or avoiding other kinds of unexpected and thoroughly unpleasant magical surprises from people who should be her 'friends.'

No more looking every which way for incoming spells. No more keeping her ears always open, even when she slept, for the first sign of a magical brawl breaking out. No more looking out where she put her feet because someone left a crystal sphere with all sorts of elemental charges inside and forgot about it. And on top of that, no more practical magic classes.

A tiny smile worked its way up her lips as she started walking down the stone cut stairs leading to the road below. All she'd have to worry about was some smelly goblins and maybe whatever arrows they could send her way. Set against what she had faced so far amongst her fellow students, it should be a simple and easy matter.

Yes, going it alone had its-

"_Oyareee? Neeber Rez!"_

Louise took off at a dead run.

* * *

**AN: And so another chapter of Making Magick done, with Louise at long last down the road for adventure, insanity, and sausages.**


	4. Chapter 04

**Disclaimer: Life. Lightning! Arise story long since forgotten. Haunt thy fanfiction once more with crack most addictive. Also, don't sue. I don't own any zombies this story may have sprung from.**

* * *

**Making Magick 04**

**One small step for Wizards...**

Dear Mother,

_I know my letters are becoming more frequent of late, but matters have occurred at such a pace and of such import, that I feel it would be negligent in my responsibilities to wait any further._

And negligent to her flagging sanity to boot.

_The first matter I feel that I should mention, is that I finally have acquired a... familiar of sorts. Though I had hoped for a manticore or similarly majestic beast, it would not be truthful to say that I am dissatisfied with who, rather than what, I have acquired. Her name is Vina, a fairy as the locals call them._

Which was certainly more plausible than an elemental spirit of alcohol and memory loss.

_In some respects she resembles a human, though one barely six inches tall, and gossamer wings on her back not unlike that of a butterfly. If I did not know any better, I would say that she was a winged person in miniature, save that she lacks the pointed ears customary of that demihuman race. How she came to be my familiar is still a matter of confusion-_

And would stay that way for the sake of her limited reserve of sanity.

_-that to the best of my knowledge, was the result of a conflict between our different magical disciplines. However, Vina has assured me that being a mages familiar is a customary practice among her people, and that she is quite satisfied with our arrangement. Though to be honest, I have a few misgivings about the nature of this Fairy Godmother of theirs, who I am told is responsible for the current practice of fairy familiars. In some respects, it seems less a holy rite of contract and more of a crass mercantile exchange._

_Though I am certain that it is merely a misunderstanding on my part. Fairy culture, such as I have been able to glean, is very... different from what we deem normal._

Because being eager to be exploded just to revive your recently deceased master was not normal for humans. Or anyone. If not wanting that made Vina broken, what did that make her? Oh wait, that was right.

The sane one.

_The other matter that needs be mentioned however, is of more somber news._

_Mother..._

_I am going to war._

_The Alderheim University has been called to provide her mages in defense of the kingdom. And as their most promising student-_

By dint of not having died, though she felt that little fact was best left unmentioned. Ever

_-I have found myself among those selected for the task despite our unconventional arrangement..._

_Of course as I am not a subject of the Midgardian crown, I have little obligation to go along with such notions. But I am told that the kingdom is facing an invading orcish army and requires as much magical aid as it can get. How such base creatures were able to mass the numbers to threaten the kingdom is beyond me, but I am told that the threat is indeed dire. Given such knowledge, I cannot in good conscience stand by and allow the citizenry, even if they are heathens, to fall victim to these rapacious beasts._

Going to war against the orcs was also likely to be safer than staying in the magical deathtrap known as the Alderheim University. Not that it influenced her choice. Much. Really.

_I know how this must sound but I assure you that though it was not my intent, much of my studies of Midgardian magic thus far has been in its martial purpose and use thereof._

Mostly because they didn't teach anything else outside of a few novel summoning spells.

_I am also not alone in this venture as I have been sent forth in the company of goo- compete- skill-_

She couldn't write it. She just couldn't put it to pen.

_-in the company of several other mages, of whom I have grown familiar with during my stay at the University. They were among the first to aid me in my magical studies and appear to have worked together in a martial capacity for quite some time._

Namely, they tended to throw lethal spells at each other slightly more frequently than they did the other students.

_As it is, we are making for the capital city, where I am told the army is mustering for the push against the Orc hordes. When my next letter is penned, I hope to have arrived and learn more of our venture to tell._

Preferably before her sanity ran out.

* * *

"Just so I'm very clear, I'll repeat this one more time."

Louise sighed, trying mightily to keep her brow from twitching and failing badly. She had been thrust out into this strange land, with nary more direction than a vague instruction to 'go to the capital'. And to top it off, they hadn't even seen fit to give her a horse to use, telling her to go off and walk like some kind of... some kind of common servant! But they were minor inconveniences. She had magic. She could cope with being lost a bit, and the implied insults were tame compared to what she had endured back home. But this... this... you couldn't deal with this! No one could. She thought she had escaped the madhouse, the insanity, the miasma of self destructive lunacy that threatened to infect her.

She had thought wrong. They had followed her. They had- she stopped the train of thought before it got any further. She took a deep breath. Then another. She was not going to have another breakdown. She was not going to lose her temper... no matter how much it strained her patience not to.

'_Deep breaths. Calm. __**Calm**__.'_ She recited to herself, recalling all her lessons in etiquette and proper behavior._ 'Nobles are composed and dignified. I am a Valliere. I am composed. I am dignified.'_

"_Ier... niber rabu rez?" _

Her brow twitched.

"Shut up!" She yelled, stomping her feet in anger as outrage hit dignity over the head with a bucket and took the mantle of leadership. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Not one more word! Be quiet and listen damn you or as the Founder is my witness I will find some way of making sure you'll never ever get resurrected! Ever!"

A shocked silence answered her.

'_So much for dignity.'_ She thought, panting as her outburst echoed off the hillsides. But at least it made them stop talking.

Breathing heavily, she glared at her sometime tormentors, sometime friends. Or at least, glared at where she believed they would be, if she could actually see them. To her eyes, there was nothing but a dirt road in front of her, leading back up the Academy steps. But they were there, oh she was certain of it.

"Now," she declared, her free hand on hip while the other clutched her staff. "I will revive you, **but**," she emphasized the word, "once I do, you have to go back to the University and leave me alone. Is that clear?"

It wasn't that she hated them. Not really. Ever since her arrival here, they were the closest thing she had to friends... if friends were the sort of people who'd throw lethal spells at one another for any reason or none at all even. Even if they weren't her friends, she did want to resurrect them, the thought of cheating death coming to her easily now. They were her responsibility, in a fashion. They wouldn't have come looking for her if she hadn't been avoiding magical practice classes, and wouldn't have ended up in that sorry state.

Accidental discharge or not, unintentional fireball or not, the only time she felt safe around her somewhat friends was when they were far, far away. She didn't know what made it worse. That they had come within a whisker of incinerating or dishing out some other gruesome fate to her, or that it had been entirely a product of their self destructive tendencies. They weren't even malicious about it. They'd come back from the dead after deadly spellslinging one moment and then discuss what to have for lunch the next... though that usually resulted in disagreements and even more spellcasting.

Everything she was dictated that she revive them. Everything that wanted to keep her body and soul together however, disagreed.

"Uhm." A voice that had remained silent thus far spoke up above her head, "Vina think maybe that not possible."

Louise turned on the speaker, eyes incredulously staring at the tiny fairy. "What? Why not?" But incredulity quickly gave way to alarm as a thought occurred to her. "Wait, do you mean the spell won't work?"

Was there some kind of limit to it? Did the souls simply stop answering the call of the spell after a while? Founder, what if she really had murd- killed them for good?

"_Ier! Nikker reeber van nari bakum"_

Fortunately, the voice of Red broke her out of her internal monologue before it could continue any further. It also had the effect of leaving her momentarily speechless. "What do you mean you can't leave because we're in a party?" She sputtered, "what do festivities have- no!" She stopped the train of thought before it could go any further.

"_Neeber-" _Red hesitantly began, but Louise cut him off.

"No! No no no. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to know. In fact, I forbid you from explaining!" She commanded. A long moment passed before she gave into the throbbing of her temple, pinching the bridge of her nose as if to hold back the incoming headache caused by her cracking sanity. A part of her still wanted to demand a reason, to find out what insane excuse they could have come up with to explain their stubbornness. The rest of her decided that ignorance was better by far. Explanations that still left her confused made her question her sanity. She didn't want to risk actually understanding.

"The short of it," she summarized, "is that you can't or won't go away, whether I revive you or not. Is that right?"

"_...ahum?"_

She took that to mean yes.

"And you can't pester anyone else for a revival either."

"_Ahum."_

That was definitely a yes.

"Because you're going to keep following me around."

"_Ier...neeber ahum."_

Most of the time sounded a lot like all the time, so that was probably a yes too.

"Until I... we, have finished this quest of Vlad's to save the kingdom," she guessed. Because then it would be back to the University, and hopefully a spell that would finally send her home.

"_Aneeber inals" _was Black's answer.

"Of course," Louise's voice had gained a faint, brittle edge to it. The brow which she had sworn to control was starting to twitch again. With a monumental effort of will, she forced it back down. "Your final years project. That explains everything."

She resolved never to grumble over her academic workload ever again.

The tiny form of her pseudo familiar bobbed up and down in agreement. "Is true." The fairy helpfully added in her broken language, all the while reeking of liquor. "Quests important for wizards." There was a pause as the fairy gave a diminutive shrug. "Vina not sure why. Wizard never graduate before."

"Nevermind Vina." Louise sighed, rubbing at the growing migraine before looking back at the empty air where she assumed her study partners, and apparently fellow adventurers were. "If I revive you, can you at least swear not to throw a single offensive spell at me anymore?"

Instead of answering immediately, there was a series of hushed whispers too fast and made of too much gibberish for her to follow. Eventually one of them, Red she assumed from the voice, stopped and spoke up.

"_Ier... nikker reeber nirbi?"_

"Because I don't want to die." She snapped with more than a bit of acid. "I don't care if you can revive me. I don't want to die. Ever."

"_Naruber nikker ri?"  
_

The reply was a flat, "not even once. Not even by accident."

"_van naru-" _Another voice, Yellow, she thought.

She stamped her foot, "I don't care if it's a single stack water spell. No throwing attack spells at me-" her tirade briefly stopped as she hesitated before adding, "not even if I'm on fire."

She didn't want a repeat of what happened the last time she managed to set someone on fire. If anything, she suspected the outcome would have been even worse.

"That's my condition for reviving all of you. Can you swear on that?"

There was another rushed bout of whispering in her head, with several exclamations punctuating what sounded like an argument before it finally receded.

"_Er... neeber ri val nir."_

Maybe?

Louise let out a long hiss of frustration. She suspected it was going to be a very, very long trip.

* * *

Despite all the horrors that made it necessary, Louise never failed to marvel at the sheer scope, the simplicity and ease which she was able to bring the dead back to life. In a way, it still felt irreverent to her mind. Such a thing should have been an act of utmost significance, a miracle that only took place before powerful mages while surrounded by all sorts of laboratory paraphernalia, or in a grand cathedral with wise holy men in attendance. The reality of doing it in the shelter of a broken causeway with a quick and simple spell by contrast... was a little underwhelming.

It might have felt more underwhelming if the people she was bringing back from the dead didn't have a high likelihood of ending up that way again, and bringing her along while they were at it. Probably in the next five minutes really, assurances or not.

"Remember," she said, weaving the elements together on her staff, "you promised."

"_Heegr reem ver gluggr"_

Another sigh escaped her lips. "Yes, you said you'd promise to try, and I want you to try very hard **NOT **to attack me. At all."

"_Neeber"_

In the corner of her vision, Louise caught sight of Vina shaking her head, the action speaking volumes about what she thought about the idea. Louise turned away. It wasn't like the fairy didn't have a point, but at the end of the day, she just couldn't leave them like that. Not if they didn't have any other recourse.

"Alright then."

The elemental spheres of magic fused together for one instant, and the next instant, four hooded figures rose out of the ground. Louise blinked. Four all at once? The last time she used it, she needed to revive each person individually. And the four were all clutching the practice staves all the students used and... swords? Where had that co- no!

'_Part of the spell. Part of the spell.' _She scrunched her eyes shut, silently repeating the mantra over and over again. _'There's no need to think about it. You don't want to know. It's all part of the spell. When I open my eyes, it will be perfectly normal for a revival spell to bring people back from the dead fully clothed and armed...'_

'_...'_

'_armed...'_

The last thought was what sent her eyes snapping open, just in time to see exactly what she feared most.

"Black!" She shrieked, springing back several steps, a spell already shaping in her mind. "What in Brimir's name are you doing?! You promised!"

"Ier!" The black hooded mage raised his hands in protest. "Nikker hva dutor!"

In less stressed times, she might have accepted Black's denial that it wasn't what she thought it was. But between the raised hand, the crackling spheres of magical fire gathering on the tip of his staff and the fact that it was Black of all people made it a very poor argument. Even then, a few moments of observation would have shown that his staff was quite simply pointing the wrong way.

Louise's experience over the last few days had taught her the virtue of not waiting.

"Nikker ree dur ahum Black." Red reprovingly said a few seconds later, glancing at the rapidly diminishing dot in the skies.

"Well, what did you expect?" the pink robed mage shot back, flushing a little. "He should have known better than to wave magic at me, even if he didn't mean it. And after he promised too!"

There was a distant thud as said black robed mage finally lost his battle with gravity.

"Mer nysgjerrig sombesvere." Blue remarked with a shrug, eyeing the crater occupying the space Black had been standing in. "Ier gulv brann?"

"I just wanted him to stop it." She muttered, not answering the question. It had come to her almost instinctively, that combination of elements to form... something that was neither lance nor bolt of magic. There hadn't really been time to take stock. There had been a the gleam of crystal, a distinctive click, and then Black was simply gone in the flash of light and sound.

But really, it didn't matter what it was, her natural curiosity about all things magical tamped down for once, only that it made the latest frustration in her life go away. Hands on hips, she shook her head sternly. "But I'm definitely not going to revive him this time. He can stay d-"

"Oyareeee!"

Whatever else she was going to say came to a halt as Louise froze. The voice had come from... she couldn't look. Didn't dare look.

"It's him, isn't it?" She muttered to no one in particular. "He survived the fall."

Out of the corner of her eye, Vina made an assenting sound and shrugged. "Happens sometimes. But Vina think Pink Wizard not worry too much. Can get him next time."

"Y- no, well I suppose-, I don't-" Louise gave up the attempt to verbalize her thoughts, rubbing her face in frustration. Surrendering to the inevitable, she turned her face towards where the voice had come from. She had to shake her head when she finally did spot him.

Louise had seen the elevated walkway before of course, connecting the university with the lone tower across the river in happier times. At some point, the bridge had fallen into serious disrepair, but even had it been completely intact, she would have been leery on crossing over it. The walkway was far too narrow for her tastes, and the crenellation also too low to keep an unfortunate soul from pitching over if they slipped.

And yet somehow, Black had managed to land on one of the remaining supports still standing, the dark robed mage waving down on them from behind the low walls.

"Aneeber!"

A sigh escaped her lips. Maybe this was how the world balanced itself against Black's tendency to fatally set himself on fire by letting him survive impro- wait. She squinted at the object in the mage's hand. Was that a book? Beside her, the remaining three mages noticeably stiffened as they made the same realization.

"Nerum magicka!" Blue exclaimed.

Louise perked up at that, questions on Black's unnatural survival pushed to the back. A spellbook? Who would leave something so valuable up there? Not that it mattered much to her, she realized. Not if it meant she could learn something new. Even if every mage here but her was outright insane, their magic was not to be scoffed at. And really, it was the only magic she had that actually worked, so learning every scrap she could about it was the only thing that made living here tolerable.

"Reeber komme ned." Red called out, gesturing with his hand for Black to come down.

Instead, the mage in question made a very rude sound, hugging the tome tightly to his chest.

"Ier! Nikker reem alle mener!"

A flash of irritation ran through Louise, though it was less at his denial and more at his accusation. _They _were mean to him? What was the lunatic on about? As if he didn't bring it on himself, being the instigator of any half dozen magical fights she could think of. When he wasn't accidentally blasting himself over some half cocked spell. Well yes, she had blown him up again just now if she was being honest, but that was his fault too.

Apparently the others were thinking something similar as well. But far more angrily.

"Harum!"

A lance of arcane energy shot out from Blue's outstretched staff. But instead of striking the black clad mage, it bounced off a glowing yellow sheen of energy that sprang around him, the crimson lance vanishing over the horizon. For a moment, Louise thought she heard a distant explosion, but it was drowned out by Black's triumphant cry.

"Naha! Ribber rim nikker magicka Rosa! Ier Ikke fa dette!"

Louise sniffed at the sort-of compliment. She would rather Black had picked up her restraint and self control rather than learning that shield spells were good at keeping one alive. But this was quickly becoming tiresome, the appeal of new magic being outweighed by the frustrations of dealing with Black.

She turned to her companions, "Well if he wants to be like that, I say we just leave him and-" two separate sets of hands clamped onto her forearms, "-hey!"

"What do you think you're doing?!" Louise made a few attempts to break their grip, but Red and Blue held on firmly, if not painfully. Red made a tsking sound and gave her an odd look.

"Reeber van nari bakum askje," Red said, gesturing with his staff hand at Black.

"Well he doesn't want to share," Louise shot back, "and I don't see what this has to do-"

Blue interrupted her. "Nikker tvinge ham dele. Aneeber."

Louise frowned. "You're going to make him share?" She shook her head. Chilling experience had told her how effective shield spells were at blocking magic of all sorts. If Black had even an ounce of sense, a dubious proposition, he would keep the shield up, effectively remaining untouchable outside of physically manhandling him. "How do you even intend to get up-"

She froze.

Yellow was in front of them. He had his stave up. A familiar combination of magical elements were swirling around it. Very familiar. Three minutes ago familiar.

"No..."

"Ahum!"

"No no no no!" Louise redoubled her efforts to break their grip. "Not like this! You promised!"

"Ier. Ingen skade" Blue assured her. "Reeber angrep."

"I don't care if you think it won't be harmful!" She shouted back, aiming a kick at him. It connected, but Blue remained unmoving. "You're wrong! Let me go!"

"Skerjme heme!" Red announced. A shimmering aura of yellow light sprung up about them.

"Unhand me now you lunatics!" She called on her own magic, elements springing forth as she channeled out of sheer desperation. Magic flew and fire spat, but their grip on her arm made her aim go wild. Trees caught fire. A portion of the river frosted over. The two mages still held on. "For the love of Brimir, stop!"

"Gruven, sted!" A crimson ring of crystalline globes sprang into existence around them, falling the floor. Close enough to touch. Red extended a foot.

"Neeber garde!"

"NOOOOOOOO-"

The foot fell.

* * *

"_I was pretty sure I had the calculations right."_

"_Next time, I'll set the trajectory."_

* * *

Louise knew how to fall. That was to say, she knew how to fall without hurting herself too much when gravity helped tender flesh to meet hard ground. As a proficient horse rider, it was of course only natural that she learned the skill early on. Hands over the back of the neck, elbows tucked in, body loose so as to roll with the impact rather than absorb it.

"AAAAAAAAA-"

Screaming at the top of her lungs while she plummeted down from the skies however, was entirely self-taught.

"AAAAAAAAA-"

As was the consideration of practical magic for halting long falls, magical shield or not.

"AAAAAAAAA-"

Unfortunately, she had lost the staff sometime during her ascent.

"AAAAAAAAA-"

Louise hit the ground.

"AAAA-ARGH!"

Bounced off the unforgiving stone.

"Ack!"

Rebounded off something pulpy.

"Ooofff!"

And finally came to a bone jarring halt against something unyielding.

"...owwwww..."

Very slowly, once her world was something other than pain and agony, Louise strained to raise her head from the stone that was her pillow. Her ribs hurt. Her head hurt. She hurt in places she didn't even know she had and acutely wished she didn't. But the pain helped to focus her mind, keeping what fragments of her attention she could muster on the important things.

Like making the pain stop.

Fingers groped blindly against the hard stone, feebly reaching out until they touched on something familiar. Slowly, she drew it into her grasp, hammering out the last bits of concentration she could muster through it. Green light swirled around the stave that had inexplicably survived the fall intact.

Moments later, her limbs began to bend the right way, the agony fading away to be replaced by a sense of wellbeing, relief...

'_...I am going to __**kill **__them... again."_

...and thoughts of murder.

Slowly, Louise pulled herself upright, supporting herself on the staff as she cast her gaze about. She had to blink once as she realized where she was standing on, the cobblestone of the broken bridge beneath her feet, and then again at the complete lack of other mages on it. Craning her head around only revealed the same lack of hooded people with less sense than a mouse. Not even Black was present, nor was there the scorched stain on the ground that would have indicated that he _had_ been there. Where had everyone-

"Uhn-" A timid voice interjected from just behind her ear.

"Got you!" Louise reacted on instinct, whirling about, murder on her face and magic above her staff.

"Yeep!" The tiny fairy dove out of the air and behind the stone crenellations with a wail. "No disintegrate Vina! No disintegrate!"

Louise pulled back the staff, the anger on her face fading away to be replaced by realization. "Vina? Why are you- no, nevermind." She shook her head, recalling what her face must have been like moments ago. "I'm not angry at you." Not as much as she was at certain others, she didn't add. "You can come out."

The fairy peeked out. "Really?" She shook her head, "No disintegrate Vina? Pink Wizard still really angry. Wizards not care who when zap-mad."

"Well I'm not like the others." the pink haired mage replied testily. "And if you can point out where the others went, I'll be a lot less likely to throw magic at you than I would at them."

"Uhm. Vina think that may be problem." The fairy gestured behind her with a hand.

Following where her sort of familiar was pointing, Louise didn't have to wonder very long as to what Vina had meant. Ahead of the bridge and down on the ground below, was where Blue and Red had ended up. Or at least, she inferred that was where they were.

The pair of mage shaped craters in the road said a lot.

She let out a hiss of frustration. Even if they did get their just deserts for dragging her into this insanity, it didn't feel right if she wasn't the one delivering it. Well, see if she revived them now. That would teach them. She had problems of her own anyway, looking at her just where they had left her.

"Now how am I going to get down?" She grumbled to the air. Against all odds, she had actually managed to land on the same portion of the bridge where Black had been standing. And while the dark robed mage was nowhere to be seen, she couldn't see a way to actually get down either. The bridge was broken on both ends, with the gap too large for her to actually risk jumping to the other side. She looked over the lip of the crenellations and grimaced, discarding the obvious way down.

She'd survived one long fall too many already, thank you very much. She was still looking for a solution when Vina caught her attention with a wave.

"Vina think maybe magic book has answer?" The fairy said, pointing to the edge of a book sticking out from under a pile of rubble.

Louise felt her eyes widen in surprise. There couldn't have been two lost spellbooks up here, could there? Brushing away the rubble, she was taken aback at the familiar gold edging and strange runes adoring its front. Or was this the same book Black had been waving about moments ago? And if so, where was he?

The fairy shrugged dismissively when she said that out aloud.

Given that Vina probably had a point, she reached out to open the cover, wondering what spells were in-

"**Congratulations potential wizard on your acquisition of the spell 'Teleport', brought to you by Alderheim Institute of Magic. Be the lightning and flash over to wherever you want. Say goodbye to obstructions, blockades, inconvenient queues and impassable rivers as you rend space and time to get where you need to go. No fuss, no muss, Teleport will get you there.**Users may experience nausea, telefrag, sudden entombment and evil twin syndrome."

-side.

Louise stumbled back, blinking to clear the spots suddenly dancing before her eyes. Knowledge streamed past her awareness in a rush, further adding to her disorientation. Eventually, she fell down on her rump. Eventually, the whirlwind of information finally slowed, settling into her consciousness as if it had always been there all along. She blinked owlishly at Vina hovering overhead, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"I know teleportation magic"

The fairy bobbed in the air and twirled, obviously pleased with herself.

Louise wasn't so sure about herself. The book was gone, but she knew with certainty that it's contents had been lodged into her head in moments... somehow. How it had happened, she wasn't sure. In fact, she wasn't even sure how she knew that, only that she knew it was true.

"...aree..."

Idly, a long neglected part of her wished her textbooks back home had been like- wait. She turned her head, towards the wall. Was that...

"Oyareee! Nikker ree magicka."

Yes. Yes it was, coming from the other side of the bridge. Louise's mouth flattened into a sour grimace. That rather sounded like Yellow. The _other _missing mage. However... abruptly, the frown became a smile that had little actual mirth in it. Walking over to the edge of the bridge, she caught sight of the hooded mage, waving at her with his free hand.

"Reeber arbeid." The yellow garbed mage called out in an approving tone, giving her both thumbs up.

"Ahum." Another voice chimed in agreement, though from much closer.

Louise looked straight down.

"Neeber ree!" Black exclaimed, showing no signs of panic as he held onto to a crumbling portion of the bridge with a single hand, the other still wrapped around his staff. "Nye magicka."

A sphere of lightning began to swirl around his staff, but before Louise could unleash her own magic, Black shouted, "reeber kartlegge na!"

And let go.

Louise jerked forward instinctively, hand reaching out futilely. But Black fell for only a second. Two more elemental spheres joined the first, and he vanished in a flash of light. In the exact same instant, a mirroring burst of light erupted down on the ground next to Yellow, the no longer falling mage appearing beside the latter.

"Supprende!"

The two wizards slapped their hands together as Louise looked on with a mixture of wonder and simmering annoyance. Wonder, at the deceptive simplicity of the spell, to become like lightning and flash across the land in an instant. Annoyance, at the fact that both mages had very nearly killed her with their antics, and not gotten their just desserts-

Her gaze flicked over to her staff, where the swirling elements orbited, the magic from her pre-empted attempt at self defense not yet released. A flicker of a smile ran up her lips.

-at least, not _yet_.

* * *

"_I think Pink's starting to get the hang of being in a party."_

"_Does this mean that bit about not throwing spells at her is no longer valid?"_

"_...maybe?"_

"_Just don't let her realize it yet."_

* * *

Louise trudged on the road, her eyes firmly fixed forward out of stubborn necessity. She didn't spare a glance behind her at the small column of goblin derived smoke rising into the air. Nor did she look down at her robes, which had somehow gained a number of dark stains.

It was strange, the tiny portion of her mind not preoccupied with weightier matters noted, how a few days of enduring the madness of Alderheim university inured one to things like this. She was certain that a week ago, the mere sight of what she'd just experienced would have her feeling faint and queasy. Now she barely even noticed the smell of exploded goblin.

But perhaps that sense detachment could be blamed on something else.

"I refuse to believe that's some kind of magical staff of healing."

"Harum! Neeber ree magicka. "

"No. I refuse."

Yes. Something else was to blame.

"Nurhur."

Magical foci were a fixture of mages. Wands, staves, sword-wands, there was a wide variety of shapes and sizes which they could come in. They could even be enchanted to have a number of effects imbued into them. But the common trait between all of them was that each one had to be crafted by a skilled enchanter, the magically reactive substances properly processed in order to ensure that they could correctly focus the magical powers a mage had on call. One certainly didn't find them, fully formed, growing out of the ground like some kind of plant or tree. It was a simple rule of reality.

"You pulled it from the ground for Void's sake. There's even leaves still on it, and those are roots!"

The land of Midgard, Louise was fast starting to believe with all her heart, was _un_-reality.

"...which you've somehow managed to cast a spell with."

And that it was mocking her.

"Ahum!"

"Rrrgh, enough, I don't care anymore."

Louise stomped off without another word, the temptation to blast all the insanity into oblivion growing with every step. She didn't give in, but only because the insanity would come right back, probably twice as crazy and in half the time it had taken to fireball it away in the first place.

It had started off so innocuously. A peasant woman calling for help from a group of traveling mages. A magicless commoner needing help from their betters to accomplish some task which they couldn't have done alone. Louise had practically felt her spirits soar at that. Something familiar at last. Something that was the same anywhere whether it was the Brimir blessed mages of Halkeginia or the sanitorium for the spiritually unbalanced masquerading as the Alderheim University. She'd even held the faint hope that now that they were in the presence of commoners, her unwanted compatriots would behave themselves as befitting a superior people and try not to set something on fire in the next five seconds.

She should have recognized the signs. The mention of rats, _**rats**_, in the cellar. The promise of some coin as if they were some kind of... some kind of penniless beggar mages who needed whatever scraps of coinage a peasant could spare. Admittedly Louise had yet to see a single penny of whatever passed for currency in Midgard, and her own money pouch was probably still in her room back in Tristan Academy, but that was beside the point. What kind of peasant woman couldn't deal with mere rats? But most of all, the bright yellow sphere and vertical bar floating above the peasant woman that she thought was a strange hat at first glance. Because on the second glance, she realized just exactly what it looked like.

A bright yellow exclamation mark.

She should have turned around at that point, but by then it was already too late.

Blue had wandered off into a row of vines, uprooted one, and declared it to be a Staff of Life.

It was fortunate for all concerned that the goblin attack that immediately followed before she was able to do more than stare at the mage. Goblins at least, were simple. Crude, horrible little creatures who didn't know any better than to attack their betters. She could understand that. And she didn't need to think very deeply about blasting them with fire and lightning. Or at all really.

Practical classes had at least taught Louise the value of being the fastest with the spells.

That however, had not prepared her for the sight when she had turned around, finding Black flailing about with his newly acquired 'weapon'. A 'weapon' which had been formerly sitting on top of the peasant's head. Admittedly, the theft was less concerning than the fact that the peasant was now encased in a solid block of ice. There had been screaming. And maybe a fireball or two. At least the poor woman didn't seem to be worse for the wear after she had thawed the unfortunate soul out and cast a quick healing spell.

Didn't even seem all that bothered at both the theft and the assault in fact. Or all that resentful either. Which somehow actually made it worse.

Louise had silently resolved there and then that when she finally returned home and came into estates of her own, she would be the most lenient and responsible master the peasantry could ever wish for. If only to make up for what the poor souls of Midgard had come to accept as part of their normal existence.

Not that their plight was enough to distract her from being offended by Blue's rambling of his new staff's properties. An offense which she was fast beginning to regret.

Set against all that, the sight of Vina somehow managing to not only heft Black's discarded sword with one hand, but making a good two feet of steel vanish behind her four inch figure was just not worth the effort to question. Not that she needed to, because Vina had caught her eye and explained the motive without being asked.

Hmph. As if her magic wasn't enough!

And if she really needed to, her staff was sturdy enough to give someone a very big knock on the head, as Red had helped her prove not that long ago. She was not about to start imitating the rest of her unwanted party, flailing about with sword and staff in both hands. Louise had only been granted a few lessons in swordplay by Mother, but that sounded like a fine way to stab herself by accident. It was a small miracle really, that the four hadn't managed to commit suicide that way yet...

Well, maybe not Black, because his new weapon more resembled a club than a sword, so the worse he could do with it was give himself a hard knock on the-

She whirled around with her staff, instincts already screaming before the thought could finish. There was a meaty 'thwock', and her arms shook from the force of the blow. Pressing against the haft of her stave was the virulent yellow club-thing, spherical handle clutched in Black's hand.

"Wha-"

Despite the face concealing shadows of his hood, the dark garbed mage seemed to radiate nonchalance. As if he hadn't just tried to brain her, as if-

"Nikker forsok om Verk."

-he just wanted to see if his new weapon worked.

"Wha-wha-wha-" Louise felt her brow twitch, action unable to catch up with the building emotional storm. From the corner of her vision, she caught Red slowly shaking his head.

Black held out a placating, "Arhum, neeber nyer Magicka."

-and no magic was used.

"Trevlig."

-so it was all good.

Louise had little martial training. What lessons she did possess were in the arts of fencing, as was only proper for a noble of her class. Undignified brawling was for uncouth commoners who didn't know any better.

All of that went through her head as she looked at Black. So she ruthlessly murdered the impulse to smack him in the face, because no matter what, she was a noble, and nobles did not brawl like ill-mannered peasants. The impulse stifled, she drew back her arm, smiled sweetly...

And set his face on fire instead.

There and then that Louise learned another important thing about Alderheim mages. Just because you were on fire and running about like a headless chicken didn't mean you couldn't cast spells. The opposite in fact. Fire made them cast spells very quickly. Just not very accurately.

It was quite some time before they started moving down the road again.

* * *

Not long after they had continued their journey, Louise found it coming to yet another impromptu stop. This time however, it wasn't her compatriots fault.

Instead, it was a stockade. And though it was not particularly large, it blocked the entire road, the wooden palisades stretching to either end of the narrow valley it was in. There was a gate which the road ran through, but it was closed, and a pair of spearmen stood sentry at its gates. As she looked on, one of them gestured lazily in her group's direction.

Slowing down just a little, she shot a questioning look at the rest of her companions, but all she received was a set of ignorant shrugs. But then the voice of Louise's fairy familiar came from atop her hat.

"Vina think maybe is... checkpoint." She slurred, bare legs dangling over the brim of the hat, the faint wash of pungent odour telling Louise just exactly what her fairy was doing, "yes... checkpoint."

Louise quirked an eyebrow, though the gesture was lost since no one could see it. Looking again, the armsmen did seem to be wearing matching uniforms, with some kind of heraldry she didn't recognize on the tabard.

"I don't think we could have walked so far as to have come across the border already." She asked, noticing how sturdy the walls looked even for a simple stockade. And if the gate had to be opened to let traffic pass through each time, surely it would affect commerce. A stray thought suggested that maybe it was meant to keep Alderheim mages in before she could silence it. That was preposterous of course. They were mages. You didn't box in nobility, especially powerful nobility, even if they were a little on the overly destructive, suicidal and pyromaniacal...

Well, maybe she _would._ But only for the worst of the lot. And it would be in a prison. Not let free to roam about in even the tiniest bit of the countryside!

"Not border." Vina's words intruded on her thoughts, "checkpoint. Is... milestone, before important thing happen."

"…"

"Like boss fight."

"Just... stop." Louise groused, muting out the rest of the fairy's words as she stomped towards the gate, massaging her aching temples. Already the babbling of nonsense was starting to build up behind her, the four mages arguing over who or what this 'boss' was supposed to be. Honestly, couldn't she have one sensible conversational partner in this insane land that didn't leave her feeling stupider by the second sentence? And the worst of it was, this was an improvement over the rest of her company.

At least Vina never tried to kill her, accidentally or not.

A minute of walking in silence placed her within earshot of the gate, waved her to a halt.

"You must be from Alderheim." One of them said once she stopped.

Louise blinked as his partner called out for the gate to be opened. "Maybe?"

The man looked them over a second time and nodded. "You all look like wizards to me, and Alderheim said they'd be sending us some. We're here on the king's orders to be your escort for the rest of the trip to Havindr."

Royal armsmen! The young Valliere stood a little straighter at the revelation. Of course. Vlad obviously must have sent word ahead and made the arrangements for them to get an honor like this. Maybe... just maybe she had misjudged the too pale man, creepy verbal tics and far too cryptic statements. Surely with the King's representatives, the four would-

Louise's train of thought all but evaporated as Yellow brushed by her to stand in front of the armsman. She tensed, visions of disaster playing in her head. Fire and lightning. A plague of magical eye seeking exploding locusts. The incessant calls for revivals. The-

No, wait, this was Yellow she was thinking about, who was somewhat sociable... when he wasn't trying to discover magical flight through explosions. He also wasn't as insane as Black... which wasn't very much, but at least he _was _less prone to blowing himself and everyone around him up by accident. So maybe there wouldn't be a disaster after all.

The line of thought seemed to bear out as Yellow simply walked up to the arsman, asking, "neeber ree vem ar herre?"

"Who's the boss?" The armsman scratched his head. "You mean the captain?"

"Ier...ahum?"

The guard nodded and thumbed past the now open gate in reply, "that would be Havar the Brave. Go on in, he's expecting you."

"Ibber."

Louise blinked. That entire exchange was... unusually normal. Had her classmate somehow found a wellspring of sanity in the presence of royal soldiers? Heedless of her confusion, Yellow brushed past her, heading through the gate with an easy jaunt. He paused, but only long enough to turn around and wave for the rest to follow.

Bit by bit, the tension bled out of Louise as the shuffle of robes indicated that the others were catching without complaint. Even Black passed her by amiably, gesturing for her to catch up without setting himself on fire. No disaster? No careless spell? No fire raining from the sky? Had she somehow been transported back to Halkeginia, where things made sense again?

No, wait.

She blinked and stared at the quartet as they walked past. Black's robes were dripping with water, and there was a thin plume of smoke rising from one of his sleeves. Blue as well seemed to have tiny sparks of lightning occasionally dancing about his body.

When had they... she muted the line of thought. She didn't want to know how or when. She was not going to think about how a group of insane mages were able to have a magical fight only a few paces behind without her noticing. No, Midgardian mages were still every bit as insane as they were. They'd just gotten a little better at hiding it from her notice.

...which wasn't a very comforting thought.

But they weren't doing anything alarming now, and they _had_ just been given a royal escort. So maybe nothing bad would happen. Maybe things would pass without incident and they'd not do anything rash. Maybe things would turn out normally for once.

And maybe she would go back in time before all this insanity happened too.

It was with those thoughts filling her mind that she caught up with the four, following them past the walls.

The camp was smaller than she had thought, only a half dozen tents, and about trice as many more armsmen going about their business. At least some of them were. The rest were simply standing, their spears held at attention as if they were on guard duty, but over what she had no idea. Though her understanding of military matters was limited at best, even she understood that guards were supposed to go on the outside of the wall, not inside. She didn't spare much thought to the oddity though, as she caught sight of what clearly had to be their commander. Bearded, muscular, but not overly so, the man in the center of the camp was a particularly imposing figure. And though he wore a blue tabard over chainmail, much like the other armsman, the ornately decorated axe on his belt and half cape around his neck indicated that at the very least, he held some rank above the common soldiers..

The bearded man nodded in acknowledgement as they came up close. "You must be the wizardly aid that Alderheim promised," he boomed, "I am Havar the Brave, captain to this platoon. We're to be-"

"Ier-" Yellow interrupted with a raised finger. "Ikker ree vem ar herre?"

The captain blinked, apparently unused to the interruption. "Yes, I am the captain."

"Ree?"

"Yes." He nodded, the beginnings of an annoyed expression starting to form.

"Ni?" Yellow jabbed a finger in the captains direction, his voice taking on a disbelieving tone.

"Yes!"

"Arhum." Yellow nodded in understanding.

And promptly exploded the captain with a beam of arcane energy.

It was several very long seconds before anyone could react. Even the other guards were frozen at the cold blooded brutality. Louise recovered first, first lifting her hand very slowly and wiping the sticky patina of gore away from her face. With deliberate slowness, she turned her attention solely on the similarly decorated mage.

"You...!" She growled, magical energy gathering on her staff. This wasn't murder. This wasn't a killing. It was saving the world from contagious, psychotic insanity.

"ier..." Yellow shrugged in confusion, oblivious to his impending execution. "Ikker bor reem starkre."

Louise felt her rage double at the callousness. The sheer malicious disregard Yellow was displaying. He had been expecting the captain to be tougher?! To think that she thought he was at least somewhat sane! More elemental energy gathered at the tip of her stave. It wasn't enough to just kill him. She would obliterate him from the face of the-

"Redare forstora." Yellow added, "som fe Vina fordran."

Her jaw fell open. The magic winked out. She stared aghast, mouth working to put words to the air. With her free hand, she pulled down her hat so she could evenly split her attention between the fairy perched on it and Yellow. She inhaled...

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS WAS A BOSS FIGHT?!"

"Ier..."

"Vina think," the fairy interrupted, lowering her hands from her ears, "maybe Yellow Wizard wrong. Beardman not-"

"Of course he's wrong!" Louise shouted back, waving her staff in his face, elemental energies swirling around like a blizzard. "He just killed one of the king's men! Right in front of his men! It's-"

"Not big worry." the tiny winged being replied without aplomb. "Vina file claim for beardman later. FairyCo Insurance. Acts of Wizard covered."

Louise felt her jaw drop.

"...wha- n-n-no no that can't be right!" she began to sputter, her hands curling into claws as she tried to process what was being said. "You can't just murder one of the royal guards and expect to _pay_ his bloodprice. That's- that-" She whirled about to the remaining guards, "tell her! That's right isn't... isn't..."

She was getting a lot of blank stares.

"No." She whispered, "no no no no. This can't be real. This can't be possible. This-"

Magic. New magic, flowed through her staff. She could fix this. She would fix all of this. The look she threw at Yellow was pure venom. Then she would fix him. She would fix ALL OF THEM.

The elemental energies coalesced, blossomed and... nothing.

No light fell from the skies. Death was not cheated. Havar the Brave did not spring forth from the ground, renewed and refreshed. His scattered remains continued to bleed on the ground.

For a very long moment, Louise simply stared, uncomprehending. Magic swirled again, familiar orbs of arcane energies formed by will alone.

Again, nothing happened. The magic collected, then dissipated.

"...no..."

Not a word was said by the others. No one else was moving. Only a silent row of watching eyes and hooded robes. A deep seated dread welled up in her chest.

"...no no no..."

This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening to her again. Not like this. Not-

"Vina think maybe Pink Wizard should stop." The fairy's words shattered her line of thought,"Fairy Godmother not like when wizards undercut business. Make them swim with fishes."

...what.

Something of her confusion must have been evident, because the fairy bobbed in the air before elaborating.

"FairyCo cover all royal soldiers." she said, waving a tiny hand at the disassembled remains of the captain, "will send customer service representative uhm-"

Vina trailed off, hands rummaging behind her for a moment before pulling out a large crumpled piece of paper which she began reading from.

"tomorrow. _Not today. Vina think all fairies busy. now. Always busy when wizards go on quest."_"

No words came to Louise. Her vocabulary was far too limited to express the sheer confusion and disbelief she felt. It had to be a trick, some kind of white lie to soothe her deepest fears. But motion from the corner of her eye made her freeze. The guards. None of them had reached for their weapons, or made to arrest them for murder. Instead, more than one was nodding to the fairy's words.

_Agreeing_ with her.

"Bu..but.. b.." Louise sputtered, a gamut of emotions whirling through her head like a tornado. It was too much to handle. She wanted to blast Yellow so hard all that would be left was his shoes for starting this. She wanted blasting everyone until the world made sense again, starting with insane guards. She wanted to blast _herself, _because this couldn't be real. It wasn't the mages. It wasn't the magic. It wasn't her. It was everything! The world! EVERYTHING WAS INSANE!

Everything was crazy and stupid and- and-

A bottle dangled in front of her, held aloft by the fairy. _"Vina think maybe Pink Wizard think too much. Should drink some to de-stress."_

A thin scream emerged from Louise's lips. This was it. She couldn't take it anymore. She could feel mind breaking. She was going to-

**KRAK-THOOM!**

-explode.

Louise blinked a few times, a long moment passing in mild confusion as the realization that she was lying on the ground seeped into her. Had the sky always been this shade of blue? It looked funny, almost pastel. And glittery. Like a fai-

Her thoughts all caught up with her and she jerked upright with all the terror and energy of the paranoid.

There were obscuring dust clouds everywhere, but what she could see made her breath catch. The stockade was devastated. Where there had been log walls and tents were now splinters and shattered timber. A hand twitched from under a pile of rubble. The earth trembled beneath her. An earthquake? The insanity quartet? Maybe- had _she _done this? The ground shook again, and the answer strode out from the choking dust.

Her eyes went as wide as saucers.

It looked like an orc. But everything about it was wrong. It was as tall as a house, every inch covered in corpulent muscle. Its skin the color of dirty moss. Blood red eyes that glimmered with brutish intelligence was set above its broad, tusk filled mouth. It roared, a bestial howl that radiated insatiable rage and bloodlust. The tree trunk gripped in its hand like a twig came down like an avalanche, shaking the ground with the force of the blow.

In the corner of her vision, Vina's wings vibrated.

"Or fight boss. Vina think that work too."

* * *

"_That's a big guy."_

"_I call dibs."_

"_Wait... isn't that spell-"_

"_It'll work. __Trust me."_

* * *

Louise froze. Everyone did. Guardsman and mages alike stared at the gargantuan creature in their midst. But then someone, somewhere, found his voice.

"TROOOLLLLLL!"

The shout rang through the camp like an avalanche, shattering the moment of shock.

Everything happened at once. Louise all but bounced off the ground. The troll bellowed. Magic weaved and formed. Armsmen rushed forward, swords and spears raised high.

But as fast as the humans had reacted, the troll was faster still. She saw the set of its shoulders, the oak trunk drawn back. There wasn't even time to scream a warning. The club came down like a thunderbolt. Six men died in an instant, broken bodies hurled into the air like ragged dolls. Lightning cracked. Coruscant energies wreathed the monster to the sizzle of melting flesh. A fireball slammed into its side, igniting the creature with its blast and turning the closest armsmen into screaming torches.

The troll never faltered. Never slowed. It lumbered forward, howling for blood.

Louise joined in then, conjuring a boulder the size of a man and launching it at the monster like a cannonball. The missile ploughed into its belly, sinking deep within flesh before shattering.

Already wreathed in flames, cloaked in crackling lightning, it didn't even stumble. Louise felt her jaw drop open, the first hooks of despair beginning to latch into her heart. What did it take to stop that thing?

"Areeem!"

She heard him first, his voice clear even in the din of battle. Blue appeared in a flash of light, the hallmark teleport spell. He stood before the giant, four orbs of magical power swirling about his staff. Another fireball sizzled past him to slam into the troll, the blast washing over the glow of a shield spell. Sword and staff in hand, magic entwining both implements, Blue raised them as one. The troll charged, club raised to smash the mage into paste. His shout rose above the battlefield.

"Nikker! Voi Men! NA!"

Magic flowed and flashed. Elemental energies combined in an instant to create something new. Something potent.

Louise had only an instant to catch sight of the familiar azure portal materializing, runic script filling its interior...

Right behind Blue.

The mage only managed a strangled, "uh oh," before he vanished into it's depths, portal shrinking to nothingness.

"Arum!" Black shouted, pointing his sword where Blue had vanished. "Naha!"

The troll bellowed in rage, robbed of its prey as it spun about with frightening agility. With a lumbering charge, it leaped at Black, staff raised high.

"Aack!"

Louise flinched as the mage's cry was terminated by the sound of pulping flesh, his battered body tracing a short arc through the air before landing with an ominous thud. For one brief, utterly irrational moment, she felt a pang of loss at her insane classmates death. But against every rational expectation, Black's arms began move, pushing himself off the ground almost as soon as he had landed.

Not that the monster was going to give him the opportunity. Roaring, the troll gave chase, club already scribing an arc overhead.

Without thinking, Louise reacted. Crimson magical energy lanced out from her staff. The beam of arcane energy struck true, searing trenches into the monster's trunk like neck. Skin and muscle boiled away in stinking bloody clouds. The giant howled, halting its steps as outrage entered its voice for the first time. It whirled on her, heedless of its the flesh being seared away, raw hate in its eyes. Not anger. Not simple rage. It wanted to _end_ her. For an instant, her heart skipped a beat. So did her stream of magic, staff hissing from excess heat.

It charged.

She screamed, raw arcane power blasting from her staff again. It struck the troll in the face, melting flesh away horrifically. It never slowed. Guardsmen jumped in its way, swords and spears stabbing. A sweeping thrust of its other hand smashed them aside like twigs. Face streaming away like wax, it leaped the final dozen paces.

The club arced down.

It never connected.

Roaring like a thousand waterfalls, a frothy pillar of water erupted from Red's outstretched staff. It engulfed the troll, the unrelenting deluge pushing the monster back from its leap. It stumbled a step as it landed, struggling to hold it's footing. But somehow it did, planting its feet against the torrent as it began to advance again. One step. Two. The arm came up again. Another spray of magic washed over the beast, icy white frost swirling in the air as Yellow approached from the other side, a cone of winter billowing from his staff. She saw it then, the first sapphire formation. Realized its nature at the same moment.

Water and cold.

It completely encased the monster, encroaching ice growing faster than it could move. In the span of heartbeats, the creature ground to a standstill, a statue made of thick layers of crystal blue ice as the stream of magic ended. Only the eyes remained visible beneath, bloodshot and raging.

"Ahum." Red's voice sounded shockingly loud in the silence, the mage nodding in time with Yellow.

Very slowly, Louise let out the breath she had been holding. The troll had been stopped. For now. Even as she began to calm down, she could see the ice beginning to melt, tiny spidering cracks here and there that seemed to grow with every passing second. It wasn't over yet... but they had more time to use more potent magic, and she knew how to deal with it now at least. Magic swirled about her again, elements forming to form a new spell. This time she would-

"Oyaree! Nikker ree!"

- whirl around in complete panic as the voice of Black called out to her. The mage was already on... off his feet, she realized. Black had risen slightly into the air, the last elemental orbs of some spell vanishing as they formed into a complex incantation she wasn't familiar with. An aura of pure magic seemed to radiate around him, unfamiliar runes of light flickering for just a moment. All that passed in an instant, intent becoming reality before she could do more than simply take stock. The spell vanished before she could find her voice. The skies turned dark a second later when she did.

"What was that." She whispered, as the sounds of cracking ice behind her warned that time was running out. It was magic. Powerful magic. Even she could feel it in the air. "What did you do?!"

"Ier, kivi sade." He said, somehow radiating an impossible level of smugness despite the hood's shadow concealing his face. "Rade vem ar herre"

She should have concentrated on the troll. Should have ignored Black's ramblings and focused on more immediate matters. But she couldn't help herself, the words forcing themselves out of her lips as she looked up. "... stone rain?"

The sky turned to fire.

Just as the sound of shattering ice erupted behind her.

* * *

Vina was old fairy. How old? Old enough to know wizards have many styles. All bad. But maybe some not so bad. Some wizards exploded themselves less. Vina kept notes. Many, many notes. Remembered them all. Vina exploded less often with those wizards too.

Vina also knew wizard magic. So when Black wizard brought together spell, Vina knew it was bad news. Very bad. So bad she put him on FairyCo List-of-wizards-to-stay-away-from. Because of extra-madness. Not normal madness like all wizards. Except maybe Pink Wizard, but Vina not sure Pink Wizard would stay not-mad for long. Maybe even enter special list one day.

…

Vina didn't remember so many names on the list. One in each group too. Always have wizard like that. Lot of Black Wizards too. Sometimes Vina think is a rule in FairyCo List-of-wizards-to-stay-away-from... that big mouthful to say. Maybe she call it Blacklist next time. Easier.

But important thing was bad news. Because Vina know what bad news look like.

Look like exploded wizard and exploded fairy. Or if she looked up, burned wizard and exploded fairy.

So Vina opened her mouth to speak. Because fairy warning better than no warning.

But Pink Wizard moving already. And doing her own magic. Shields, Vina saw. That was good.

Maybe Pink Wizard stay off list for a while longer.

* * *

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Louise had heard of people talking about the sky falling on their heads.

But never about it being on fire at the same time.

Not that she was very concerned about metaphors when the reality was doing it's best to burn her to ash...or the giant troll trying to turn her into bloody paste.

"Whywon'tyoudie?!" She shrieked, feet churning broken soil as she hurled another weak bolt of lightning behind her.

Smoky trails of fire streaked across the skies, came screaming down, each one impacting the ground with enough force to throw up columns of burning dirt. Five. Ten. A hundred. An uncountable hail of destruction fell across the land. Men were hurled into the sky, set alight in the wash of flames or both. Explosions, dust and fire, choked the air. The ground shook and jerked like a living thing. Hell had been let loose on the land, and damnation took everything.

And still the monstrosity came lumbering after her.

"er... Vina think- eep!"

She dove for the ground, warned by the fairy. A powerful gust whistled above her head, taking her hat off, leaving her suddenly feeling naked. She didn't give it a second thought, rolling out of the dive as she sprang back on her feet. A fireball came shrieking down where she was only a moment earlier. The impact lifted her off the ground, sent her hurtling into the air.

She barely had time to weave another spell before she slammed into a tree.

Light flashed, the world blinked out.

And then she was on her feet, the white grip of magic fading. She panted once, then took off like a rabbit, blessing the saint who had crafted the teleport spell in every language she knew.

The roar of the troll told her to shut up and run faster.

She could have put up a shielding charm. Could have hidden ridden out the storm of fire under its protective dome. It had stood against lightning. Against fireballs and more. She knew from hard earned experience that it would remain impervious as long as she poured all her willpower into it. Red had tried that.

Fire from the sky shattered the dome. A trunk sized club had flattened the mage underneath.

So she kept running, dodging fire and-

"Aneeber!"

-stumble as she tried very hard not to fall as Yellow came into view, seated on a chair and nonchalantly waving at her.

"Drikke?"

… with a mug.

It was so incongruous she almost failed to notice the golden aura of a shield dome surrounding him.

Almost.

"What are you doing?!" She screamed, all too aware of the way the troll's bellowing was getting closer. She pounded her fist on the dome, "stop sitting there and help me!"

"Reeber," Yellow shrugged and proffered the mug again, pointing up with his other hand, "ferdig ikke lenge."

Up above, the hail of fire did begin to thin... which only made the earth trembling footsteps all the more apparent.

"I don't want a drink you lunatic!" Her voice was practically a shriek, "I want you to help me kill that thing!"

Completely calm, Yellow rose a questioning finger. "Ier... lofte forb? Neeber magi pa deg?"

Louise gave a thin scream of frustration. "What does that promise have to do with it!? The troll's not me!"

"Naer." He replied without aplomb, "kova ibber tavoite."

Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. She would have yelled at the mage, but the day suddenly turned dark.

On instinct alone, she burst into a sprint. Barely a second later, a tree trunk smashed down on where she had stood moments ago. Panic and terror loaned her wings as she darted around the shield dome. Surely with Yellow in the way-

The club came whirling after her again, passing so close she could feel the wind of its passage. A triumphant bestial roar filled her ears.

Of course. It would come after _her_. The only person not insane. Louise would have screamed her frustrations aloud if she wasn't spending every ounce of breath on running.

"Shoot it!" She shouted, racing around the shield dome, trying to keep it between her and the troll. "Your aim can't be that bad!"

Instead of springing to his feet, the damnable mage simply scratched at his hood. "Gjore... magicka?"

"Yes Founder damnit!" Screeching, she paused only long enough whirl around and call up a barrier of wicked looking earthen spikes. It slowed the troll, but only long enough for the monster to shatter them with a single sweep of his club. "With your mag- eeagh!"

Dirt kissed her face as she tripped and fell. Limbs went askew as she rolled over the torn earth until her head made contact against the stump of a tree. Through the sudden fog of pain and shock, the silhouette of a giant loomed over her. The tree in its hand rose like an executioner's axe. A single realization surged through her head.

She was going to die here. She was going to die. Dead. Squashed. Flat.

Something snapped inside. Terror and desperation took the reins.

No time for thought. For plans or habits.

Only magic.

Blindingly bright energy erupted around her staff. Not a lance of pure arcane energy. Not a spray of elemental power. A roiling mass of clashing energies that defied understanding. Lightning and scalding steam wreathed around a core of blood red energy, making her hair stand on end. It lanced out, a beam of destruction striking the troll dead in the chest.

The effect was instantaneous. Flesh boiled and melted like wax. Lightning crackled greedily along exposed rents and wounds. The trolls advance halted. The club stopped, arm clutching it spasming uncontrollably. A long gurgling howl painted the air with torment.

But against the storm of energy, every movement wracked by spasms, it began to move again. A shift in its torso. A tortured tensing of muscle.

Louise tasted dread. She held out the staff, pouring every ounce of willpower into the spell, only one thought in her mind. One purpose.

'_Die die die die.'_

A half step.

It happened without warning. Another roiling beam of energy lanced out across the air. From the corner of her vision, she saw Yellow waving at her, completely unconcerned as magic blasted from his staff. He might have said something. She didn't hear it, her attention focused solely on the impact point.

Not the troll, but her own flare of power. Magic flowed. Mixed. Two more streams of writhing magic streaked through the air, blazing forth from the staffs of Red and Blue. It slammed into the torrent of magic erupting from her staff. Banshee winds howled. A newborn sun birthed in its heart. The roaring blaze of magical energy doubled in size, quadrupled. Screaming into the struggling form of the troll.

Searing light blanketed the world. For a single instant, stark white bones danced beneath flesh made transparent.

The troll vanished into crimson mist and bloody viscera.

And so did everything else.

* * *

_"Well that worked."_

_"And that is why we don't cross the streams."_

_"Say's the guy who redacted himself."_

_"Anyone noticed her glowing eyes?"_

_"Maybe she's been holding out a new spell on us."_

_"Ehhh, she's not talking about 'showing them all'. Hasn't even called anyone a worm yet. She's probably just annoyed."_

_"**That** makes her eyes glow?"_

_"With rage, duh."_

* * *

Silence. Darkness.

Wet.

Warm.

Iron stink.

Mushy acrid paste on her tongue.

"Euurgh."

Sputtering, Louise pushed herself upright, spitting out unidentified chunks of solidified foulness. She wiped a hand across her eyes, but it only served to smear whatever it was on them even worse.

A pause.

A realization.

A ball of water materialized itself above her. Gravity did the rest. It was cold, and left her feeling clammy. But at least she was clean. Taking a long shuddering breath, she opened her eyes and looked around her.

"Aneeber!"

She almost closed them again to rub her brow in frustration. Instead, she looked towards the somewhat ruffled form of Black, his staff raised and a familiar combination magical energies gathered along its tip. She studiously avoided looking at the blasted and burned ruins of what had been a reasonably small stockade.

"And where were you when we were dealing with that troll?" Her voice carried more than a small amount of annoyance, bits of memory of the last thirty seconds now congregating with logic. Blue and Red. Yellow must have had revived them earlier... shortly before they were blasted to pieces again if Black was trying that spell. Not that his conspicuous absence would have changed much, on reflection.

"Aare." The mage answered immediately, gesturing towards the elegantly decorated axe in his other hand. Louise also noted that the staff in his hand was not his own. In fact, it had originally been in Blue's possession.

Of course. Loot. Louise would have burned him there and then with a fireball if not for the fact that it was sure to be wasted effort both in negative reinforcement and making sure it didn't happen again permanently. She almost did anyway. She was only stopped by the fact that there were now three mages she was slightly less annoyed with standing between her and the source of her ire.

"Have I missed it! Have I missed the battle?"

That and the lone armsman who jogged past the charcoal stumps that was the outer gate and was now staring about in disappointment.

Louise felt her brow twitch in annoyance. "How did you miss it in the first place?" She accused, "that's the gate the troll came through. Weren't you standing guard?"

"Err..." The armsman stammered for a moment before his voice suddenly rose as he threw his hands up, "oh woe! Our brave Captain has fallen in battle and we cannot follow you until he is tended to. But you must go to Havindr at once!"

"...what?"

"Just go through the East gate here and you'll be on the road to the capital."

"...what."

Her brow twitched again. It was going to be one of those- _'No, no, __**no **__magic,' _she chastised herself, forcing her staff down. There was no 'make sense' spell. But she was going to start shaking someone until-

A hand clamped down on her shoulder.

"Areem." Red said, his impatience to get going clear in his voice.

"Aarre mennyt," Black added, gesturing at the complete lack of anything interesting now that he'd looted the only thing worth having and there was more loot ahead coming down...

Something of her confusion must have shown on her face because Black pointed straight up.

At an airship, trailing fire and wreckage, rapidly losing altitude as it shot overhead. It vanished over the horizon where the sky briefly lit up with a brief flash of light and a soft whump. It was also in the direction the armsman had pointed them at.

"Aarre!" Black exclaimed, running off past the gate. With excited jabbers, Red and Blue joined, Yellow only pausing long enough to gesture for her to follow.

Louise looked at the mage, then up at the glittering form of her fairy familiar who had remained silent so far. Vina shrugged. Then she looked back at the guard, who was giving her an expectant look. The kind of look that said 'you're a mage too, they're your responsibility. And so was that airship.'

With a long suffering sigh, she trudged after the quartet, hoping to keep their damage to a minimum.

She wondered if Mother ever had days like this.

* * *

"Louise did always look up to you."

Karin de la Valliere lowered her teacup, her eyes glued to the dark liquid in thought as she made a wordless sound of assent.

"She often spoke of joining the Manticore Knights one day, to fly and fight for the kingdom as a hero." her host remarked, a melancholic expression on the young woman's face.

Karin remained silent. Her youngest daughter aspirations were no secret to her, had even held onto them even when her... difficulties with magic had become apparent. Though she had never showed it openly, Karin had been proud of that determination to succeed no matter the odds. So much like her. All for nothing now.

A sigh. "It is truly unfortunate, what happened."

"It is." The Heavy Wind put down the cup, taking care not to let any sign of her frustrations leak through. But steel discipline could not keep a moment's lapse from happening. "It should not have happened at all."

"I know. Our best investigators are still at a loss to explain how it happened, but it is beyond our ability to affect now."

There was a regretful sigh.

"I wish it wasn't so, but all we can do now is pray that she has the Founder's peace." On the other side of the table, her counterpart mirrored the action, folding her hands before her and looking down at her lap. When she looked up again, it was with a sad smile. "But that's not why you have come here, is it Duchess Karin? You have never struck me as the sort to pray when deeds must be done."

Karin did not close her eyes in thought, nor did she take a steadying breath. From another person, she would have suspected a hidden needle in those words, a baited trap as deadly as a dagger in the back. But this was not the place for such things, not now. She simply met the gaze without wavering. "I still intend to honor my daughter's memory," she said, "but you are correct that it is not my sole purpose for visiting, Princess Henrietta."

The young monarch nodded, the melancholy fading away as she adopted a neutral expression. "I have my suspicions as to what it is," she began, "it stems from that day, does it not? I have heard the rumors."

She gave a curt nod in reply. She had spent far too many years dealing with the intrigues of the court to think otherwise. She had heard some herself, whispers and suspicions that touched too close to the shame she had held in secret for nearly her entire life. Though never directly, and never to her face. A pity. It would have made quashing them easier. But only for the short term. She could not be everywhere, and duels would not quell a rumor that lingered in the mind. Considering her daughter's difficulties, the incident would linger for a long, long time.

And like a poison, their reach grew the longer it was left to fester. That Eleanore's engagement had been called off could not have been a coincidence.

"But why have you come to me, and not Cardinal Marazin?" Henrietta asked. "I hold the Valliere family in high regard and would lend my assistance where possible, but until I am crowned, he is regent. His authority in such matters exceeds mine."

Karin shook her head. "You misunderstand princess. I do not seek a proclamation that would silence the Valliere's detractors. It would do little to convince them now that they have started to move. There is a more direct and lasting way of ensuring them of their errors."

The princess's eyes widened as understanding lit upon them.

A long moment passed before she spoke again. Her path was clear, but the decision was still not easily made. There were many ways this could go wrong, could risk the very thing she hoped to stop. But she made the choice still, speaking not as Karin de la Valliere, but as the Heavy Wind. Because it was the only choice.

"I wish to return to the Crown's service."

* * *

**Vinapedia**

Vina not normally do this, but Vina think that maybe some people will be confused about some things. So Vina think maybe if Vina explains some things, people not so confused anymore. Or maybe more confused and drink a lot. Vina do the second thing many times.

**Quest Marker**

Quest Marker look like big yellow stick with dot on the bottom. Is very hard too, so sometimes can be used as stick. Can also be used to show person is surprised. But Vina think that one is actually blue, not yellow. Is maybe cousin to Quest Marker. Surprise Marker not show up all the time too.

Some people think Quest Marker is silly thing made by silly people because they are too lazy to do things themselves. Is right. But also is wrong. Quest Marker not made by silly people. Is actually magical creature. But not clever like Vina.

Quest Marker always hungry. Eats will and motivation. Makes people lazy. Sometimes when Quest Marker gets really big, prey people not move at all, stay there all day and night. Not even moving when attacked.

But sometimes people don't die too. Even when attacked. Quest Marker is lazy. Does not like to find new prey. So Quest Marker sometimes makes them immortal...

What?

Vina not know how. If Vina know, would not be 1up.

Quest Marker very hard to get rid of. Sometimes people can call for help, get things done. Then quest marker comes off. For little while. Then comes back. Especially when new people arrive. But not old one who fixed problem. Vina think maybe is defense mechanism.

Quest Marker is sneaky.

But maybe not so sneaky against wizards. Because Quest Marker now beating stick. Maybe Pink Wizard use it one day.

* * *

_**AN: This chapter has spent far too long in the works. **_


End file.
